Trying to save my soul tonight
by Merisha
Summary: A journey through the centuries, leading up to Dean's last day, and Sammy's last chance to save his brother from hell - Hurt/Dean Angsty/Sam - Sequel to 'Losing my Religion' - Mixed POV's
1. Chapter 1

**Trying to save my soul tonight**

**By Merisha**

**Synopsis:** Okay, so here it is, my take on the Season 3 finale ;0) – if you haven't read "Losing my Religion" you may be a bit confused. This story is also from multiple POV's, jumping from the past into the present, wrapping up loose ends and explaining origins. Most of the information is a mixture of fact and fiction, so don't go quoting me in any history books LOL ;0) 

There are also some new characters, but they're just visiting. It will all make sense in the long run, so don't panic.

And yeah, I know these two stories are more angsty then my usual fare … but you can blame Kripke for that … his episodes are freaking me out at the moment LOL ;0)

**Disclaimer:** If they belonged to me, there would be no time for fanfic LOL ;0)

**Warning:** Mild Language

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**Chapter 1 - **'**The Prophecy'**

**Bruno's POV (translated into English)**

Torre dell'Annona, Italy, 1600

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_Mia cara__ Sophie_

_At last it is done, my final journal. I didn't think I could finish it before this day, my eyes have been so bad lately, but I have. I finally have. I could never explain the relief I feel. Out of all the **1127** manuscripts that I have written over the last ten years, this one book, it is the most important. I am giving it to Phillipo to give to you as always. You must in turn give it to my cousin as he leaves for the Americas this very night. The day has now finally come and it is the most important thing you can do for me. Per favore aiutatemi Sophie, it must reach him at any cost. I cannot explain my actions to you mia amore, you would not understand. I am so sorry for that, but sorriest for your pain. Know that what I have done is for a noble cause. I didn't know it then, but I do now. I am so very tired but please have peace in the knowledge that I have never been happier. The weight that was on my shoulders has finally lifted and I am free. If you ever think back on me, remember me this way._

_Sempre, __Bruno_

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I fold the warn piece of paper carefully in half. I tore out the last blank page, in this my final journal, to write one last note to Sophie. I'm finally finished, I will never write again. I lay down the old ink pen resting between my raw fingertips. I smile as I look at the water stained parchment. This room has no protection against the elements. It's dark and moldy, the only light coming from the small barred window high above the straw laden ground where I am sitting. But it has been my home for seven long years, if you can call the 'Tower of Nona' home. 

The old woman in the prison cell next to me starts hacking. She knows she is dying. If the infection in her lungs doesn't kill her, the cold, dank cell will. She has been here longer than me, accused for witchcraft by the church.

Philosopher, cosmologist, occultist and heretic. These are the names that have sealed my fate. I chuckle at the irony. The one thing not on that list is seer. I can see the future. At first I thought I was surely going mad, I even went to see a physician and he told me it was a sickness of the blood, causing me to have hallucinations. I had no one to talk to, except my Sophie, the one I had given everything up for, and when she saw how ill I was from the daily draining of blood with leeches she chased the physician out of our villa and into the streets, yelling obsentities at him. That is why I love her so much. I smile at the memory. She nursed me herself from that day on and I got better. It was then that I tried to confide in her. I told her of my visions, of great buildings, chariots without horses and flying coaches and then of demons and monsters and warriors. It was the day I saw terror in her eyes. I never wanted to see that look again. She thought I had been possessed … and ironically she was not very wrong. 

So that day also became the day I decided to leave all thoughts of the future behind me and concentrate on my life with Sophie, the here and now. I had been a struggling writer all my life, in love with a merchant's daughter. The pain of knowing I could never marry her drove me to foolishness. Things did change, we did get married, and for three years I wrote theories and manuscripts, discussed philosophies, became a respected _professore_ in the field of sciences. We lived in wealth and fame, as I had wished for and our love was strong. That love is what has carried me through my time in prison. But even though I was happy beyond my wildest dreams, for those three years I was still haunted by nightmares and visions. Haunted by a future that I could change, a future I had the power to change. I dreamt of a great war between good and evil. Ancient creatures battling for ultimate power and two brothers, the two brothers who would save the world. Eventually I could not eat, or sleep, the urge to write the things I saw so vividly in my head was slowly driving me insane. 

That was when it started. I would get up in the late hours of the evening and write until the early hours of the morning. I couldn't stop myself. I wrote pages and pages of things that were to come. I began spending more and more time in my den, my fingers aching from the words that ran so freely from my head, through my hand and onto the pages before me. It was a history of the future. World changing events … things I had never heard of before … world war … atomic bomb … hells gate. I could not imagine such things, and yet I saw them all vividly. Maybe I was mad, but deep down I knew, I knew because I had asked to see the future and I had been granted that gift. But it had also become my curse. 

My sudden change in behavior scared Sophie and our fall away from society caused an arousal of suspicions. The Vatican started investigating me secretly. They found out about my strange beliefs, my notions of the future and I was eventually arrested, dragged to court and convicted before I even understood what was happening. My Sophie cried throughout the trial, especially when they said I would be imprisoned for ten years. And if after that time I did not see the error in my ways and repent, I would be burnt alive at the stake. They didn't know that they would be three years too late.

It has been seven years …and my time is up.

I have spend the better part of this last year working on my final book. The visions come with such clarity now, that it has by far become the best thing I have ever written. It contains spells, curses and incantations that will help those two brothers who have haunted my dreams for so long. I have dates, times, places, events all categorically listed from the time of their birth, until the day they die. And then, a few days ago, after an especially painful vision, it finally came to me. A place with a name … a place I knew I had to get my final book to. A place called Kansas. The problem is that no such place exists … I did not even know where to start … and then my cousin gave me the answer I was looking for when he came to visit me last week.

He said that he was going with a ship to the new world … a new land where colonies were being built, a place to start a new life. I knew then that this was the place, the place where my journal needed to go. I asked him if he would take it with him, not to be read by anyone. He made a solemn vow, a word of a brother and friend. He will keep the book safe and he will tell his sons, who would tell their sons, that the book can only be moved when they hear of this place called Kansas. And then they must take it to the first church built there and leave it in the basement to be forgotten. My cousin doesn't understand my request, but he has accepted the task. He promises he will not fail me. I believe that my book will eventually be found there by a preacher of that time. And that precious information will at long last go to its intended recipients.

I received word that the ship is leaving for the colonies tonight. I am waiting for little Phillipo to arrive so that he can take this priceless manuscript to Sophie. He should be here any minute.

I rub my thumb over the old leather binding, slipping the note between the cord holding the pages closed. It is the final prophecy, the one detailing the greatest battle that will ever face mankind. And everything I know of those two brothers is in this book. Everything in intricate detail that will lead up to that battle, and hopefully with that knowledge, they will not fail.

The old hag coughs again. We have a bet on to see who will die first.

"Bruno?"

Her voice is strained and gravely, it sends a chill down my spine. I look up at the window above me, there is still a thin stream of sunlight filtering through from the late afternoon sun. I let them sink into my cold skin.

"Yes anziana donna."

"Bruno … you have a visitor."

She starts cackling as I turn my head, expecting to see Phillipo. Instead I look into the beautiful face of my Sophie. I think I must be dreaming as I blink my eyes a few times, slowly pushing myself up from the straw.

"Sophie?"

My voice breaks under the emotion that suddenly fills my heart. I haven't seen her since that trial seven years ago. I have forbidden her to come to this dark place. I did not want her to ever see me here. I stare at her. She hasn't changed. She is still beautiful, long black hair falling in soft curls around her pale face.

"What are you doing … why are you here?"

The guard opens the gate to my cell as she tentatively steps in. I take a step back. I know what I must look like. My clothes are stained, I have a long, unruly beard and this place smells like the pits of hell. My pure and wonderful Sophie should not be here.

She smiles at me sweetly, but the room suddenly feels colder.

"Bruno, Bruno, Bruno … just look at you … what a sad sight."

Fear instantly grips my heart. I'm looking at her, but her voice is different, she's not the same. I haven't seen her for all these many years, but I know her and the person in front of me isn't my Sophie.

"Wh…who are … you?"

"Dear boy, you already know the answer to that question!"

No! This can't be happening … no … not to Sophie!

"It's you … but why … what have you done with my wife?"

"Oh she's in this meat suit with me … she's crying to get out … you should hear her screams!"

I try to move forward but I'm suddenly pushed back and pinned against the wall. The guard rushes forward but with a flick of her wrist, he drops down dead in front of my open cell door. I'm not the man I used to be, I'm thinner and frail. I know I can do nothing against the monster in front of me, so I don't struggle. The pressure is released and I slump to the floor.

"Oh Bruno … you're breaking my heart, seriously … is this what you've become? I gave you the world on a silver platter and this is what you did with it?"

She shakes her head sadly, but her eyes suddenly blaze red and I scramble back against the wall, turning my face in horror as tears stream down my cheeks. My Sophie … I can't face the evil in her eyes … a sob escapes my lips.

"Mistress … did I do well? Will I get my reward?"

It's the old hag. The door to her cell silently swings open, the lock crumbling to dust.

"Yes donna … I'm very pleased … your wish is granted."

She flicks her wrist over her shoulder again and I watch in horrid fascination as the old hag stands up and transforms into a beautiful young girl before my eyes. The old woman walks up to me in her new disguise, she smiles down at me but the black emptiness staring back leaves me with unimaginable dread.

"You see Bruno … I will not be the first to die. I have won our little bet. I have been speaking to my mistress ever since you came through these doors. She told me to tell her as soon as you finished your last book, your prophecy ... so I did. And in return for that information and in exchange for my soul, I have been given eternal life and beauty."

She chuckles happily.

"And now I can exact my revenge on those who locked me up for all these miserable years. I am a powerful sorceress now."

The monster wearing Sophie's face smiles down at the old woman. Running her hand almost lovingly over the now smooth skin of her cheek.

"She is more than a sorceress, she is a Lich … an undead creature who feeds off the essence of life. Go forth my creation, and wreak havoc among man."

The Lich cackles again as she slowly rises from the floor, floating, and in an instant flies out the door and into the dark night.

Sophie moves forward and picks up my most precious possession, the book. She flicks it open, the letter I wrote dropping unread to the floor. 

"Ah, this … this is an absolute masterpiece Bruno. Definately your best work. You've just restored my faith in you. Do you remember that day ten years ago, the day you went to the crossroads in Florence and summoned me?"

How can I forget … it was a foolish mistake that has haunted me every day since.

"You were so young and ambitious then. You wanted to be one of the greatest writers and philosophers known to man, better than Plato or even Sappho. You wanted to know the future, so that you could plan ahead for your precious Sophie's wellbeing. Your love for her blinded you to everything else and you thought that if you were not rich and famous she would never marry you. That her father would never allow it."

I bow my head in despair, looking at my dirty, bare feet. Shame coloring my face.

"But the funny thing is, she would have gone with you. Left her rich family. You would have lived like any other average couple, married, with bambino's … you don't have any children now do you Bruno?"

I shake my head, tears clouding my vision.

"If you had not made that deal, you would have had two boys now. Two beautiful children, doting on your ever word. You would have lived a happy, long life until you both died of old age. But instead, this is what you got."

She spits out those words as she waves her hand around the small room in disgust, each revelation stabbing at my broken heart.

"Please … how can I … how can I fix this?"

I'm shaking, the heaviness of my loss is crushing my soul.

"I'm sorry Bruno, truly I am … but there's no way out of a crossroads deal. Your ten years are up and I have come for you. At the stroke of midnight the hellhounds will arrive, and there's nothing I can do about it."

I nod my head again. I think I always knew it would end like this for me. Even though I can see the future, I never saw my own. 

"Will my Sophie live? Please, please give her back her life."

My voice is softly pleading as I slowly look up.

"I cannot, Sophie would only die. I have been living in her body for over a year now, ever since you sent her your last manuscript. That same night she was badly hurt during an unexplainable fire. Your cousin even thought she might die. I waited until she was alone and then I entered her battered body restoring her life. But the fire burnt down your home and destroyed your life's work."

I look at her in shock, not believing the things coming from her mouth.

"You did not know? Ah well, I am afraid it is true. All your books Bruno, every last one, except the one I hold in my hand now, were destroyed in that fire"

Rage suddenly boils within me as I stand up on unsteady feet. My head is pounding, my world has suddenly turned upside down.

"Why? Why did you do this? Why did you ruin my life?"

She laughs, throwing back her head in mirth.

"Bruno, you are so intelligent and yet so stupid. You asked for something that nobody has ever asked for before. You wanted to know the future, be a philosopher and writer. We knew that you would see the battles in the years to come. And now that you have written everything down in this one book, it has become the most powerful knowledge known to demons or man. Did you think we would just let it slip through our fingers? Thanks to you, we now know who we'll be fighting and how to stop them."

I shake my head. I suddenly feel sick as my knees give way again as I fall to the floor.

"Oh god … what have I done?"

She smiles at me, laughter dancing like flames in her red eyes.

"You, my dearest Bruno, have just given us the upper hand, and ensured your place in hell."

She turns to leave, the door to my cell slamming shut, leaving me with those tormenting words. Something snaps as I watch her walk away, my Sophie is trapped, my life ruined, everything I have ever done … for nothing. But worse than this, I have betrayed the brothers who would have fought this evil, brothers yet to be born.. I start laughing, my laughter turning into hysteria at a world that has suddenly gone mad in my sane eyes. My shouts of mirth ring out in unison with the church bells chiming midnight, following me as the hounds drag my deserving soul into the dark pit.

_**TBC ;0)**_

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_**Ooh, I'm so evil LOL ;0) ... next chapter will involve the boys.**_


	2. Chapter 2

**Note:** Thanks as always for the great reviews, and for sticking with me through the strange first chapter LOL ;0). Cookies for everyone who remembered the Lich from "Transference and Transference Revisited" (so now you know where she spawned from and why she was so scared of Sammy, she knew about the prophecy, who could blame her) and the "1127 manuscripts" that Bruno wrote, the number 1127 refers to Mary's time of death and is also the co-ordinates to The Fore Inn where John came up against The Hunter in the Supernatural comic 'Origins' – if you haven't got it, get it ;0)

The prophecy (its true contents to be revealed at a later stage in this story) is also referred to in 'Losing my Religion' when The Hunter speaks to Dean during his nightmare. Had to establish where this 'prophecy' came from, hence the whole Bruno story. Hope that clarifies any questions from Chapter 1, now onto chapter 2 … enjoy!

And just a quick note to all you fantastic writers out there who give me my daily fix of Dean and Sammy angst with your brilliant stories, you guys are amazing and inspiring, with all the great talent out there, I feel like a tuna frolicking among dolphins LOL ;0)

**Warning:** Mild Language

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**Chapter 2 - **'**The Amulet'**

**Kawacatoose's POV **

_Northern Montana – November 1999_

There's a storm coming.

Just my friggin luck. Hunting a miserable wendigo, in the miserable snow, for five miserable hours ... and now there's a storm coming. Figures. If I didn't have that miserable dream again last night, I wouldn't have even bothered … but the spirits tend to get angry if you ignore the signs they throw your way. I'm on a dream quest. Dreamt of demons and monsters and two powerful brothers. Told my wife I'd be gone for a few days, up to our winter cabin. She smiled. I think she was kinda happy to be rid of me. Can never tell with that woman. Damn prettiest girl in the tribe, but she gives me some serious grief, which I probably deserve. I chuckle at the thought.

Anyway, these brothers are going to need my help, and somehow we are already connected. I can feel it. So here I am, looking for clues, just like the spirits told me too. I always listen to the spirits. It's a rule. You don't mess with the spirit plane, otherwise suddenly you have unexplained bad luck, and more bad luck and then before you can recover your mother-in-law decides to visit. I shiver at the thought. So I packed the necessaries and left the cabin early this morning … still no sign, but I'm expecting one at any moment. I've been checking all my traps, hoping one of them would snag this sucker so that I can just blast it to kingdom come, but I haven't even caught a rabbit, so there goes supper to top it all.

A half hour later and still nothing. I huff in exasperation … okay, I'll friggin ask. I look up at the brewing skies with my hands raised above my head.

"Oh great spirit … please show me a sign!"

An unholy yell and gunshots echo to my left, further up the hillside. Now that's what I'm talking about. I'm actually kindav surprised, cause I was being sarcastic! Who knew the Great Spirit had a sense of humor?

I grin as I trudge forward through the knee deep snow as quickly as I can, but the sight that greets me at the clearing on top, stops me in my tracks.

The wendigo I've been hunting is standing still, its putrid blood dripping onto the blinding white snow. It's facing off against two boys, hell they can't be older than 20, but they've got their guns leveled at the thing, slowly circling it, waiting for the right moment to fire.

I see it all happen in slow motion. The wendigo, not liking it's options, suddenly lunges forward. The shorter kid pushes the slightly taller one back, getting between his brother and the creature. The taller one loses his balance for a second and stumbles back, stepping right into one of my traps. Shit!

He yells out in agony as he collapses, grabbing at his ankle caught in those steel teeth. The other boy spins around in shock and the wendigo takes the opportunity to hit him, slicing its claws along his back as it throws him up into the air. He lands with a loud crack against a dead tree, crumbling limply into the deep snow.

I'm already rushing forward cursing. The creature starts moving again, darting into the tree line. It's quick.

"DEAN!"

The tall kids' full attention is on his unmoving brother. The wendigo changes course and starts heading towards it's fallen prey. Shit, it's nearly on him. I kneel, load my crossbow, take aim and shoot, all in under 10 seconds. I've done this before. The silver tipped arrow flies across the clearing hitting the thing right between the eyes. It doesn't yelp or stumble, just falls down dead almost landing on the surprised boy, who looks up at me in shock.

His gun is instantly in his hands, aiming at me … holy crap he's fast.

"Whoa, whoa … don't shoot."

He looks at me assessingly for a second, then lowers the gun, still holding his leg with his free hand. He's in obvious pain, but his eyes remain riveted to where his brother lies deathly still.

"Dean?"

His voice breaks, as he turns to look at me again. I'm next to him in a few long strides. I bend down, wanting to remove the steel clamp biting into his ankle, but he brushes my hand away.

"I'm okay, please … help my brother."

I ignore him, I know my traps and I know how painful it is to get caught in one. Before he can protest, I push both my hands down hard on the release mechanism and the jaws spring open, eliciting a string of curses from the boy, as he falls back in the snow, groaning as he grits his teeth.

I leave him to quickly make my way over to the other boy. He hasn't moved. The wendigo got him good. There are tears in his thick winter coat, probably saved him from some serious damage, but there is still a fair amount of blood. I carefully roll him over to check if he's breathing.

I nearly jump out of my skin when the lanky one's head pops over my shoulder, trying to get a good look at his sibling. He's managed to drag himself over to where we are, and I didn't even hear him, must be losing my touch.

"How is he?"

I can hear the panic in his voice.

"He'll live."

At my words, the boy lying in front of me starts moaning, eyelashes fluttering against his pale cheeks as he battles to open his eyes.

"Sam … my …"

"I'm here Dean …"

The kid named Sammy almost pushes me out the way in an effort to get closer to the one called Dean. He grips his brother's hand tightly, as Dean tries to focus on his face. He immediately tries pushing himself up, and both Sammy and I have to hold him steady as we settle him to lean awkwardly against the tree trunk with his shoulder bracing his weight. He grunts in pain, but still gives me a weary look, one eyebrow raised as he glances at me over his shoulder.

I'm dressed in traditional buckskins … it's surprisingly warm in these freezing conditions. But I know I look like some Indian straight out of a western, I almost grin, but instead I return his appraising gaze with the same curiosity.

"Who's this?'

Dean nods his head in my direction, aiming his question at Sammy. Damn spirits seriously know how to pick 'em, and I'm supposed to save these two asses? With the most serious expression I can muster, I hit my hand flat on my chest in a manly fashion.

"Me … Sleeping Bear!"

Sam seems to find his manners, in between his pain as he rubs furiously at his sore leg.

"Sleeping Bear? Thanks for the help, sorry, it's just we weren't expecting to find anyone out here, guess I came across as kinda rude. I know this must all seem weird to you, but I can explain. The thing you saw was a supernatural creature, and yeah, I know it sounds strange, but it's kind of our job to hunt these things. Lucky you came by when you did though … we needed the help."

He chuckles nervously. I just listen to him, an intent expression on my face, nodding at intervals. Kid doesn't know that I've been hunting "supernatural" things for longer than he's been alive. But it's just too much fun listening to him try to explain himself.

"Well anyway … it's an honor to me you … I'm Sam and this is my brother Dean."

Dean mumbles something in tired acknowledgement, but we both watch in amusement as Sam's hand automatically moves to his chest in imitation of mine, a smirk pulling at Dean's lips. It takes just about all of my willpower not to smirk as well, instead I nod sternly. "How?"

Dean looks at me funny.

"What do you mean how? We're related … same mother … same father … which part don't you understand?"

I can hear the pain in his voice as he huffs out those words, probably why he's so grumpy, probably why I'll forgive him … but Sam looks at me apologetically.

"Dean … you are such an ass … Hau is an Indian greeting man … I think you've just insulted him."

I chuckle, I can't help myself … these 'tourists' are seriously killing me.

"Nah dudes … I'm just messing with you … I'm from the Chippewa tribe … the name's Kawacatoose …"

They both stare at me in silent, blank astonishment.

"… it means 'poor man' in Cree … my folks weren't very optimistic …"

More blank looks. Tough crowd.

"… but you can just call me George."

Dean bursts out laughing, then grunts again through his humor as the wounds on his back remind him that he's actually injured and bleeding. Sam chuckles nervously too, as he continues to rub at his throbbing leg ... I join in ... that story gets them every time.

"Well Sam … Dean … looks like you boys are going to need some patching up. You can stay at my cabin until this storm blows over."

"Thanks for the offer … um George … but I think we'll be okay, if we can just get to our car ... don't think there's going to be a storm any time soon."

As those words leave his mouth there's a loud rumble, and snowflakes start drifting down in a flurry as the wind picks up. I can't help but smile at Sam's surprised expression. Damn city slickers.

"So as I was saying, we'll get you to my cabin, and then we'll take a look at those wounds. Don't want them getting infected before we can get you to a doctor."

They both pale instantly at the mention of a doctor. I understand their fears, some things you just can't explain to the medical profession. I tap Sam on the shoulder.

"Don't worry, you're not at deaths door, you probably won't need to see a doctor."

I take my backpack off and start rummaging for supplies. Sam just watches me in amazement as I quickly stop the bleeding on Dean's back with a poultice, dress his wounds and bandage him up temporarily, all without taking off his jacket or clothing … don't want him to get cold, we've got a long walk back to my cabin. Dean doesn't complain, barely makes a noise, even though I know he's in serious pain, he just admires my handiwork in quiet admiration. I like the kid already. I lean him back against the tree, his shoulder still taking his weight as I move over to check Sam's ankle.

His ankle is almost as bad as Dean's back. The heavy iron teeth ripped through his boot, leaving bloody and ragged cuts in its path. His foot is already swelling, dark purple bruises snaking up his leg. Shit. I think it may be broken. I move it tentatively to test my theory and Sam falls back again, screaming out in pain.

"Easy pal … that's my brother you're hurting … Sammy? You okay."

Sam huffs, "… yeah."

Dean's eyes flash at me in anger. I immediately get a sense of what it must be like to go up against Sam's overprotective older brother.

"His ankles broken, he won't be walking back to the cabin … I'll have to make a stretcher so that I can pull him."

"No, no … I can walk."

Sam tries to push himself up again, but instead falls back as agony shoots up his leg. Damn, these kids are two stubborn sons of bitches. I huff irritably as I start wrapping his leg and ankle. I know I should take his boot off with this amount of swelling but I can't risk frostbite, so I leave it on, it's just gonna have to wait.

"Okay boys … listen to me, and listen to me good. We don't have time to play who's-the-biggest-hero … so you're either going to let me help you so that we can get back to my nice warm cabin before we all freeze to death … or I'm leaving your sorry asses out here and you can try to find your way back to your car by yourselves. And don't think I won't, cause I will. Either way, I'll be warm and alive … but I can't promise the same for you!"

Both boys look as embarrassed as they should rightly feel. I know they're in pain, but it doesn't mean they have to be a pain in my ass.

I rummage around again for my first aid kit, giving each of them a couple of Tylenol for the pain, which they swallow down with luke warm coffee from my thermos flask.

They don't argue any further so I get to work, like I said, I've done this before … I know these woods and mountains like the back of my hand and I know how dangerous it can be out here. I quickly chop down two young spruce saplings, tying them together with the spare change of clothing I threw in my bag. I'm prepared for anything. I stretch the buckskins to fit as far as possible along the stems, finally holding it up and bouncing it a few times to check it's sturdiness. I tie my backpack to the bottom of the structure, acting as a barrier and support so Sam's legs won't drag in the snow. Once I'm satisfied I move over to Sam. The snow is coming down harder, pretty soon we won't be able to see our hands in front of our eyes … I need to get these boys out of here ... and quickly.

With Sam's help, we manage to get him into the stretcher. He looks miserable, but he accepts my help without any further complaints. Looking at him now, he looks much younger then I suspected. He's still a boy, but he puts on a brave face. I tap him reassuringly on his shoulder.

"You're gonna be okay kid, we'll be warm and dry soon."

I move over to help Dean. He's managed to push himself upright, but he's swaying slightly on his feet. It worries me, there isn't room for both of them on the stretcher, and I don't think I could pull both of them back to my cabin.

Dean looks up at me, and I can see the understanding in his eyes. He knows.

"It's okay … I'll be fine … just lead the way."

He grins at me lopsidedly, it's a charming smile, but I can see right through it. I'll have to keep an eye on him. I'm not sure if he has a head injury from his forceful introduction with the tree, but his pupils seem reactive ... it's hard to tell. I smile back reassuringly … this kid is tough. You can see it in the way he carries and handles himself. He'll probably make it to the cabin by shear stubbornness alone. I quickly slip the discarded weapons in next to Sam, who's eyes are drooping tiredly and we start our arduous trek.

Dean manages to keep pace with me, only making my respect for him grow. I lean over to whisper in his ear.

"You know earlier, when I said How … you were right … I was asking how you could be related to Sam … he's such a geek!"

Dean chuckles again, it's a pleasant sound, but just as quickly the worry returns to his eyes as he stares back to look at Sam.

"Poor kids sleeping … he shouldn't even be out here … but dad insisted that he come along …"

His voice trails off, like he's said too much. He doesn't sound angry though, just tired and worried. The weather is steadily getting worse and we still have a few hours of walking to do. These boys would never have made it out here alone. I can see now why the great spirits sent me out here, they always do things for a reason … and these boys seriously need my help. Both physically and emotionally.

_**TBC ;0)**_

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_This chapter was a bit longer than I anticipated, therefore instead of hashing it all out at once, I've split it into 2 sections … so we will return to 'George', wounded Dean, sick Sammy and the amulet in the next 'strange' installment ;0)_


	3. Chapter 2 continued

**Note:** Shucks thanks guys for the lovely reviews, and for spotting my mistakes grins sheepishly - you really keep me going … and to PA Davis for being her fantabulous self and beta-ing this chapter for me, your ideas really ironed out the kinks … especially after I nearly killed poor Dean and Sammy with a 'thermostat' last chapter LOL ;0) - all mistakes are mine - and to Vixxenfairy for her support and for listening to me bitch when I can't get my ideas out of my head (trust me I can bitch) LOL again ;0)

**Warning:** Mild Language

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**Chapter 2 continued - **'**The Amulet'**

**Kawacatoose's POV **

Northern Montana – November 1999

You couldn't have waited a few hours? I look up at the dark sky, challenging the Great Spirits. The blizzard has hit full force and we can barely see two feet in front of us. It's all good and well they send me on this 'mission' but do they need to make it 'impossible?'

I snort at my own humor, my wife's right … I do watch way too many movies. I squint to my right, watching as Dean weaves on his feet, the kid's on the verge of falling over. I quickly stop, reaching over to steady him.

"Easy there Dean … you okay?"

He grabs onto my arm, huffing, eye's glassy … but he nods as he bends over his knees, pain etched on every inch of his face.

"How much … further?"

I take out my compass, getting my bearings … I'm still on track.

"Couple of miles, should be there in the next half hour or so … maybe we should have a break."

He straightens, shaking his head.

"No … can't … won't be able to carry on … if I stop."

His face is flushed, god he looks bad … probably an infection and fever setting in. Wouldn't surprise me, Wendigo's are filthy creatures, and their claws carry a shit load of bacteria and who knows what else. I watch in surprise as he shucks off his big jacket.

"Hey, what you doing kid?"

He gives me a heavy-lidded look, like he's too tired to explain, but he tries anyway.

"We're nearly there right? … I'm moving, keeping warm … Sammy's lying still, don't want him to become hypothermic."

He moves over to bend down painfully next to Sam. Sam is also wearing the same type of jacket, but Dean puts his coat over his brothers shivering form anyway. Sam still hasn't woken up, which is worrying me a bit. I watch as Dean tucks the coat in, brushing his fingers through his brother's long hair, pushing it off his face and back under his hood. He gets up unsteadily, but there's a determined glint in his eyes as he begins walking.

He shouldn't be without a jacket but I also reckon it won't hurt, probably bring down his fever a bit, which will save me from having to do it back at the cabin. I follow, watching him with renewed respect … the love he displayed in that small gesture shows me what he's made of, and I'm impressed. I smile.

We trudge on in silence, reserving our energy. The wind howling around us is causing a vortex of snowflakes to swirl up, making it difficult to see. Dean holds his arms closer to his body, bending his head down, just focusing on each step, one foot in front of the other. I'm cold, these boys must be freezing, but Dean doesn't complain. Every now and then I catch him looking back at Sam … his face is impassive but his eyes reflect the turmoil inside him … he's worried. His eyes are a dead give-away, displaying his inner feelings like a book if you look carefully and quickly enough. If you blink, you'll miss it, he'll put up walls to hide his pain. It's probably his protection against the crazy world he lives in.

I'm keeping an eye on his unsteady gate, ready to catch him if he collapses but he manages to stay on his feet. I have questions I want to ask him but I don't get a chance because I instantly smell the unmistakable essence of wood smoke in the air. We're here … the coals I left smoldering in the fireplace are probably dead by now, but the smell is still hanging in the air.

"We're here Dean … just a few more paces and we should see my cabin."

He turns to look at me, snow plastering his skin and hair, a lopsided but relieved grin on his face. He takes a step forward but suddenly his eyes roll back as he collapses in front of me. I carefully lower the stretcher as I bend down next to him, rolling him over gently. He's out cold … literally. He's breathing, but it's shallow … poor kid used up all his reserves to get this far. I bend down, lifting his arm and throwing his weight easily over my shoulder. I'll get him inside and then come back for Sam. He's pretty heavy but I'm fit, have to be being a Park Ranger out in these mountains.

I see the hazy outline of the building through the heavy snow fall, walking up onto the porch and pushing the handle with my elbow and opening the door with my foot. I move Dean over to the couch. Quickly throwing a blanket and pillow on the floor in front of the fireplace I lift him up again and carefully settle him down, covering him up before I leave.

I quickly return to get Sam, dragging the litter to the door, scooping Sam into my arms as best I can, he's all legs and arms, and then moving inside to settle him on the couch, gently propping his leg up with pillows and throwing another blanket over him.

I shut the door and bolt it before I return to the fireplace. It's still warm inside but I need to get a fire started again. Once I have a blazing fire, water boiling and collected every medical supply I have available I move back to check on the boys.

I start with Sam … he hasn't moved and I'm scared that he's suffering from hypothermia. I kneel next to his still form, gently tapping his face.

"Sam? Sam? Can you hear me? Can you open your eyes?"

No response. Shit. Well at least I can patch him up before he wakes up in pain. I start by removing the bandages around his leg. I take my knife and carefully cut through the shoelaces and leather surrounding his swollen ankle. I finally manage to get the boot off but his ankle looks much worse. Red lines are snaking up, radiating away from the deep gashes … infection … I need to clean this quickly. The cold seems to have stopped most of the bleeding, and his toes are a bit blue. I rub them between my warm palms trying to return some circulation before I sit him up to remove his wet clothing. Once I have him totally undressed, I cover him with a pile of warm blankets, gently putting a pillow beneath his head.

I quickly take the time to also remove Dean's cold, wet clothing, covering him in a thick blanket as well. He's still unconscious. That's when I see it - an amulet. I stare at it in shock. The spirits act in mysterious ways and the realization of what I'm looking at hits me hard. Shit. He's the one. I gently smooth my thumb over it. Damn … I haven't seen this thing for over seven years, didn't think I'd ever see it again. When I can stop staring, I place my hand against his forehead, he's warm but I'm not sure if it's from the heat of the fire or the remnants of his fever. I'll make double sure when I check his back, in the meantime I'll finish up with Sam.

I rummage around in my first aid box, pulling out a bottle of broad spectrum antibiotic … Primaxin … I read the label, need to administer this every 6 hours. I take out a syringe and fill it with 500mg, before taking Sam's arm, tapping it and sliding the needle into his vein. He groans as his eyes start moving behind his closed eyelids.

"Dean?"

Crap, I was hoping to be finished before he regained consciousness.

"No Sam … it's George … do you know where you are?"

He slowly opens his eyes and looks around confused … then recognition flickers as he looks at me again. His eyes trail down to his arm as I pull out the needle, pressing a swab against the small bleeding puncture mark. He shivers.

"George … you saved us …"

"Yeah, that's me, just remember to say that really loud when you meet my wife, she thinks I'm pretty useless at everything."

Sam tries to grin but his face wrinkles up as he grunts in pain, squeezing his eyes closed as he huffs.

"Leg … hurts."

"I know kiddo, I'm working on it … it's pretty busted up …"

Sam's eyes suddenly fly open.

"DEAN .. where's Dean?"

He looks around frantically as I keep a calm hand on his chest, easily pushing him down. He spots Dean lying next to him on the floor.

"Dean? What's wrong … is he okay?"

"It's okay Sam … he's unconscious, collapsed when we got here … he just needs to rest up for a bit."

Sam doesn't seem convinced and tries to push himself up again. I push him back down.

"Listen kid, I need to check your leg, you've got a serious infection and you've been out of it for a few hours … the quicker I can check you over, the quicker I can tend to Dean."

This seems to work as he settles back, but he still keeps his eyes on his brother's flushed face.

"He's going to be alright though?"

I can hear the desperation in his voice.

"Yeah, I think so … I'm not too shabby in the first aid department … you should only lose one or two toes at the most …"

Sam looks at me wide eyed, but then sees the grin plastered on my face, and chuckles.

"Your bedside manner really sucks pal."

I snort as I move down to check his ankle again. Cleaning these wounds and setting the fracture is seriously going to hurt but it needs to be done. I reach over to give him two more painkillers with some water which he drinks down greedily, before flopping back against the pillow. He looks down at himself, probably realizing for the first time that he's stark naked. He lifts the blankets and blushes bright red. I bite back a chuckle at his modesty.

"Don't worry Sam … you haven't got anything that I haven't seen before, except maybe that mole …"

"… oh god …"

His face flares up again and I burst out laughing as he tightly secures the blankets around himself. Damn kids going to give me a hernia with all this laughing. I try to distract him with conversation.

"So, how old are you boys anyway … aren't you a bit young to be hunting?"

Sam suddenly becomes indignant.

"I'm 16, Dean's 20 … we've been hunting our whole lives … Dean started when he was younger than me."

"Easy tiger … it's just that all the hunters I've ever met only started hunting later in life."

Sam looks at me in surprise.

"You … you know about hunters … about what we do?"

I chuckle.

"Yeah … I'm part of the club, kid. Been hunting for years … it's kind of a family tradition, passed down from one generation to the next."

He seems relieved at my admission and relaxes a bit … probably glad to be in familiar company. I look over at Dean again.

"So, that's a nice pendant your brother has, it's really unusual, seems kinda old."

I start wiping at the swollen skin around the gashes, they're deep and oozing blood and puss, probably need some stitches as well. His hands clamp into the blanket and he hisses, but he stay's focused on his brother.

"Yeah, I got it from our uncle, well he's as close to an uncle as we've got … Bobby Singer, he's also a hunter. I remember he told me it was 'really special'. I'm glad Dean's got it though, he never takes it off if he can help it. I kind of like it that way … don't tell him, but it makes me happy that he has something I gave him, something that he has with him all the time."

Bobby Singer … I chuckle … funny how things come around full circle. I pull the infected skin open, letting the blood and puss run out. Sam's back arches up from the couch, swearing loudly.

"Aaah, SHIT!!"

He grunts as he tries to regain some control. Teeth grinding together as he hisses with each labored breath.

"Sorry kiddo … shouldn't be much longer."

"It's … okay … just think, I'm going to hurl …"

I grab a basin next to me just as Sam leans over, heaving. Not much comes out, except the half digested pills he had earlier, and whatever else was left in his stomach. He spits out the nasty fluids in his mouth, pulling a face. I wipe his mouth before he lies back, pale and sweaty.

"Sorry …"

"No need to be sorry … you're doing great …"

He looks over at his brother again … worry etching his smooth features.

"You sure he's okay?"

I look down at Dean, he hasn't moved, but his body shudders ever now and then.

"Yeah, he's got a fever … I'll get to him now … why?"

Sam looks at me, eyes gleaming with moisture.

"It's just that … well … if I'm hurt … he tends to sense it. He would never be lying that still if he knew I was hurt, or heard me in pain … he has to be seriously injured or sick … and he hasn't moved."

I understand his worry … I need to hurry and check on him but if I don't clean Sam's ankle it could lead to serious complications … blood poisoning … or worse. I can't take that chance. I give Sam some more painkillers and then continue with the draining of the infection, cleaning and cutting away dead skin, finally stitching the wounds closed. He doesn't speak, just fights through the pain, tossing his head on the pillow and shouting out when the pain gets too much. He's completely exhausted by the time I've splinted and wrapped his ankle. In about five hours I'll give him some more antibiotics.

He watches me with tired eyes as I finally move over to Dean. His body is covered in a fine sheen of sweat. I feel his forehead … he's definitely starting to burn up again. His breath hitches slightly as I gently roll him over, propping his body along some larger pillows so that I can take a look at his back. I've got his back facing Sam so that I can utilize the extra light from the fireplace. He hisses when he sees the four deep gouges running horizontally across Dean's back. They've stopped leaking blood but the skin is very puffy and red … damn it. Looking at his back, I can see that he's been through this before. I can see it from the faint scars marking his body. A testament to the many battles he has already fought in his young life.

I take out another syringe and fill it with the antibiotic, finding a vein in Dean's arm and injecting the medication.

"How bad?"

Sam's soft voice startles me, I thought he might have fallen asleep. I look up at him, I can't lie … he'll see right through me.

"It's not good … the wounds are infected … I'm going to have to do the same procedures on him that I did on you. Hopefully he'll stay unconscious until I'm done."

Dean needs to get some fluids back into his body, so I carefully lift him up, tilting his head back and dribbling some water from a clean wet cloth between his slightly parted dry lips. Even in his unconscious state, he swallows the liquid greedily.

Sam just watches, swallowing hard as I lower Dean again, getting ready for the task ahead.

"What can I do?"

I smile … the bond between these two is very strong. I pick up Dean's hand, placing it in Sam's as he reaches down, Sam's thumb immediately starts rubbing soothing circles in Dean's palm. He watches Dean's face with concern, looking for any signs of consciousness.

Once I check his pupils with a flashlight … still even and reactive ... I work methodically opening up the wounds as I did with Sam. Draining the infection and cleaning out each tear. Dean's skin twitches but he doesn't wake up. After half an hour I look up at Sam. The painkillers and antibiotics have finally taken. He's fallen asleep but his hand is still holding onto Dean's. I reach up to feel his forehead. He's also warm, will have to check his temperature again … it's going to be a long night.

I finally finish sewing up Dean's wounds, covering them with a dressing. I lift him up carefully again, intent on giving him some more water, when his eyes flutter open.

"Sammy?"

Sam's immediately awake.

"Dean … hey Dean … you with me?"

He looks at Sam groggily as he leans heavily in my arms, looking up at me in confusion.

"Where … am I?"

"You're in my cabin … you were attacked by a wendigo."

"George?"

"Yeah."

I can't help but smile, he isn't delirious and that's a good sign.

"You better … have a good reason … for me … lying naked … in your arms!"

Both Sam and I chuckle.

"God Dean … I was so worried … how're you feeling?"

"Hot."

He wiggles his eyebrows at his smirking brother … hinting at the other meaning behind the word.

"You are such an ass Dean."

The words are teasing but full of love.

"Okay boys … enough with the touchy-feely crap … Dean, I want you to try and drink these, okay."

I pop the Tylenol and then pain killers into his mouth and help him swallow them with some water. I also open the flask of 'herbal remedy' that my wife gave me … it's apparently full of nutrients, vitamins and natural antibiotics … it's an old Indian recipe, my wife got it from her mother. I can't believe she expects me to drink this shit … but I put it near Dean's mouth … hell … I'm not the one who needs it. Dean pulls his face away as the pungent aroma wafts up into the air.

"What the hell … is that?"

He cringes as I push it to his lips again.

"Drink this, it will make you feel better and help with the infection. It tastes better than it smells."

I chuckle inwardly … I know for a fact it tastes worse.

"Thanks … but no thanks."

Sam looks at him sternly.

"Dean … if George says it's good for you, then drink it!"

Dean just glares back in defiance. Sam tries another tactic.

"Please Dean, you need to drink it. It will help you get better … please … for me."

God … the kids got this act nailed … he has the most convincing puppy dog eyes I've ever seen … damn I'm almost tempted to drink this shit myself. Dean doesn't stand a chance.

He huffs irritably, face wrinkling at the smell, but he closes his eyes and takes a few long swallows of my 'mother in laws' concoction. No wander I hate that woman.

He shudders as he slowly wipes at his mouth with the back of his hand. The whole ordeal seems to have taken it out of him as he closes his eyes and almost immediately falls asleep again. I lower him down gently and cover him with a blanket. A smile still tugging at my lips.

Sam. I shake my head in amusement. He knows that his brother would do anything for him and he uses that knowledge to his best advantage.

"You know that you have your brother wrapped around your little finger."

He smiles.

"Yup, but he's so damn stubborn, always worrying about me or dad. I hate doing it, but sometimes I have to use that card to get him to take care of himself."

I chuckle.

"If it's for his own good, I guess it can't be all bad."

We sit in silence, just watching him breathe.

"He loves you more than anything or anyone else in the world … you know that don't you."

"Yup … I know."

Sam's eyes start drooping.

"Get some rest kid … and you should also drink some of this, it's really good for you."

I hold up the flask. He chuckles.

"Oh no way, I'm not crazy … that stuff smells like shit … and from the look on Dean's face, probably tastes like shit too."

I try Sam's routine, putting on my impression of a puppy dog face, which only garners a loud snort from him.

"Please … for me."

"That won't work on me you know."

"Go figure!"

We chuckle again as Sam settles down and after a few minutes his breathing evens out and he's fast asleep.

_**TBC ;0)**_

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_Okay, so I lied LOL ;0) … this chapter is still longer than I anticipated, therefore instead of hashing it all out in two chapters, I've split it into 3 sections (honest, there really is only one more chapter of 'The Amulet") … so we will return to 'George', wounded Dean, sick Sammy and the amulet in the next 'stranger still' installment ;0)_


	4. Chapter 2 continued again

**Note:** WOW guys - I'm so glad everyone is enjoying George's character … thanks for the wonderful reviews (you still make me so happy) - sorry that I'm a bit late to post ... but I promise to post quicker ... I want my story finished before the season finale LOL ;0) - This is the last bit about "The Amulet" … next chapter "The Colt" – and we'll be bouncing back in time again … so stick with me LOL ;0)

Thanks again to my fantabulous beta PADavis, she saves me from myself LOL (all mistakes are my own) ;0) - and she also won the prize for being my first 100th reviewer for "Losing my Religion". Over 100 reviews … you guys simply rock!!

**Extra Note:** I'm going to use this little bit of space as a platform to brazenly promote two stories. Firstly, PADavis' new fic 'Canaveral' totally blew my socks off. It hasn't been posted yet, but seriously make a note somewhere to keep an eye open for it! I've adopted it as my own LOL ;0) – Secondly, Amarintha's fic 'Deliverance' is about Dean returning from Hell. There was a problem with the breaks in perspective in the beginning of the story, but I think she's sorted it out now … and if you love Dean angst and owies, then this definitely deserves a read! And lastly, the next panel for "All I want for Christmas" is finally up ;0)

**Warning:** Mild Language

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**Chapter 2 continued … again …**

**'The Amulet'**

**Kawacatoose's POV**

Northern Montana – November 1999

It turns out to be a very long night. My attention is split between both boys as they battle to ward off the fever. Dean's temperature keeps rising, but Sam's seems to have come down a bit, he's just in a lot of pain and I keep feeding him antibiotics and painkillers as he drifts in and out of restless sleep. Every time he wakes up, he groggily checks on Dean, but he's so exhausted his eyes don't stay open for long before he drifts off again. I'm on my feet the whole night, with basins of cool water, checking and re-dressing the wounds and keeping the fire going. I'm drinking my fifth cup of coffee as I watch both boys sleep fitfully. I've just given them another dose of antibiotics as I look at the clock, 2 in the morning … yup, it's going to be a really long night.

I also managed to contact my wife for a few minutes on the two-way. She told me that we had a visitor. It seems the boy's father came looking for them. He wanted to come up the mountain straight away to find them, but they managed to convince him to stay there until the storm blows over. She said he wasn't happy, but my mother in-law apparently gave him the what-for … the poor man, I shiver again. From what I can tell, the storm should be over in a day or two, then they'll make their way up to the cabin to come and get us. I can still hear the howling wind outside. I managed to relay that I found the boys and gave her a quick rundown on their current condition before we got cut off. My wife knows that I can handle this, even though she teases me about being useless, she knows I'm the best ranger out here. These boys are in good hands.

Dean is mumbling something. The fever has taken a hold of his body and in the old days they would have said his spirit was battling the demons inside him. I look at him knowingly, there is still some truth in those old beliefs. I continually check his back to make sure the wounds don't flare up with infection again. I put my coffee down and grab the wet cloth out of the basin, carefully sponging his heated body down.

He starts rambling softly in his delirium, his words don't make much sense to me, but they give me a clue into the nightmares that are troubling his sleep.

"… dad. I messed up ..."

His head thrashes against the pillow, his eyebrows knitting together as I wipe his brow.

"It's okay Dean, just rest easy."

He gets more agitated.

"… Sammy … he's hurt … my fault …"

He seems to be listening to something only he can hear, and it becomes obvious to me that he feels like he's let his father and brother down somehow.

"… No. I'm sorry sir … don't be mad …"

I place the wet cloth beneath his neck and I rummage around for the thermometer on the table, need to check his temperature again. I get the reading, it's not good, may need to take him outside for a few minutes, let the cold air cool him down. I'm still contemplating the effects that could have on him, the sudden cold could send him into shock if I'm not careful. I try soothing his fears.

"Hey kiddo, it's okay, Sam's okay."

"SAMMY!"

His sudden yell makes me jerk, throwing the thermometer straight into the air. Damn, nearly gave me a freaking heart attack. Sam's eyes immediately fly open as he turns to see Dean thrashing out in delirium, choking sobs labouring his breathing.

"Dean?"

I move around to lift Dean up again, cradling him against my chest as his head rolls on his shoulder. He's coughing and shivering as I cautiously but firmly hit him between his shoulder blades, being careful not to touch his wounds, trying to ease his breathing.

Sam tries to push himself up, sitting straighter, but his face pulls in pain. It doesn't stop him from leaning over and grabbing Dean's wrist.

"Dean … you're okay … just breathe evenly."

Dean's eyes are half open, his glassy gaze doesn't seem to register anything, but Sam's gently coaxing words have the desired effect as he starts calming down and eventually slumps back into unconsciousness in my embrace, his breath catching as his eyes twitch closed. Sam looks at me worriedly.

"How's he doing?"

"He'll be okay, he has a strong spirit." I say it with the same conviction that I feel. I don't tell Sam, but I know that he and Dean have many battles to fight yet. A little ol' wendigo isn't going to bring Dean down. They're warriors. They're the warriors that my ancestors have been talking about for centuries.

Sam watches me as I dribble more water between Dean's dry lips before I grab some pillows to slightly elevate Dean's head and shoulders as I lay him down again, making sure he's as comfortable as I can make him.

Sam sighs tiredly as he keeps his eyes on me.

"Spoke to my wife, seems your dad came looking for you …"

Sam immediately sits up again, almost forgetting his leg until the pain flares up and he grunts, grabbing his knee and squeezing, as if that action will stop the pain.

"Dad? God he's going to be so pissed!"

I shake my head … seems these boys have a healthy or maybe unhealthy respect for their father … can only imagine the type of training he's putting them through. Not only do I know Bobby, I know other hunters and I've heard of the famous John Winchester.

"Well, from what my wife said, he was pretty upset that he couldn't get up here to find you boys … I think he's more worried than pissed."

"Then you don't know our dad."

Sam grins but his eyes show his weariness. I just look up at him as I sit cross legged next to Dean … my body language relaying an easy air of camaraderie, giving him the option to talk, if he wants to or feels the need to. It works, Sam lies back down, staring up at the ceiling.

"My … our dad, well his kinda obsessed."

Sam chuckles, but it's not a happy sound.

"You see, when I was just a baby this demon came and threw our world upside down. It killed our mom … and well my dad, he's never fully recovered, actually neither has Dean. Dad feels it's his own personal mission to kill every single evil SOB out there, and he won't stop until he gets the thing that killed her."

I just watch him, his expression is sad, but I can see that stubborn streak hovering close to the surface.

"So me and Dean, well we got pulled into this battle without much choice in the matter. Don't get me wrong though … Dean loves this life, he loves fighting beside dad, and he's good at it, hell he may even become better then dad one day … but well, I don't think this is what life's about … hunting isn't the 'be all' and 'end all' for me …"

He looks over at me nervously, like he feels guilty for saying those words out loud.

I feel the need to say something …

"So … you think Dean only lives for hunting, just like your dad?"

"Yeah … I guess so … I don't really know … he just seems to follow dad's orders more easily then I can. It's like he's trying to get dad's approval all the time, I just wish … I just sometimes wish he would grow a backbone."

He looks down at Dean, tears brimming in his eyes, and I understand. He thinks that Dean would do anything his dad asks of him, anything to protect his family … and he's right … and the thing that's worrying him the most is that Dean is going to pay the ultimate price for that loyalty one day. I'm amazed that someone as young as Sam can read people so well … he's scared … he doesn't want to be around when the inevitable happens. He's going to leave … I can see it in his eyes … it's just a matter of when.

"Dean has backbone son … don't be fooled … it takes a lot of courage to stay and protect your family at any cost …"

Sam seems to mull that over, looking back at his brother, pride reflecting in his eyes, warring with his other emotions … but I can see that he's still not completely convinced.

"… besides, he has to have some sort of backbone and probably huge balls to boot, to keep your skinny ass out of trouble."

Sam chuckles at that, which turns into a long yawn. His eyes drift close and he's asleep again before I go to fetch another cup of coffee.

I sit down next to Dean, pulling a blanket over my legs and feeling his forehead again, he's still too warm. Shit, this family is almost as messed up as my own. But the sad thing is that they just don't realized how truly messed up they are, and they sure-as-shit are going to be if the prophecy turns out to be true. Bobby knows about the prophecy, Jim knew about the prophecy, hell John Winchester probably knows as well. Jim says he even saw it once, read a few chapters before the manuscript mysteriously disappeared out of the rectory. Bobby's been looking for it ever since. I remember the first time I met Bobby. We met in Mexico, hunting down a loup-garou. It was before I was a ranger, before I was married even. I was still a bit green, hadn't really hunted a lot of supernatural beings, mostly wendigos or bears who acted like wendigos. That bugger nearly killed me but Bobby saved my life. I remember having a vision then, I've had them all my life, painful sons of bitches too, and I knew, I knew that the amulet I wore around my neck, the one that had been passed down through every generation in my family … I knew I had to give it to Bobby. It's a protection amulet, it protects the wearer from evil. It's priceless, but it has a job to do and now it seems that this was part of my quest.

I gave the pendant to Bobby in my vision. He gave it to a young boy … that boy turned out to be Sam. Bobby only knew that it was a strong protection charm, so he told Sam to give it to his dad, something to help John in his many battles. But I already knew that it's going to its rightful owner. Looking at him now I finally understand. He'll need it. It will help keep the darkness inside him at bay. Besides it has a job to do, a life to save.

I sip my coffee, thinking back to my own childhood.

My great grandfather told me the story of the amulet the day he placed it around my own neck. I asked him every year to repeat the story, he was a good story teller, most tribal leaders are … besides we didn't have TV back then, and I know it by heart.

He said that an ancient king from a far off land once challenged a God. The God was angry and sent down destruction … rivers of blood, rains of fire ... the skies grew dark and his people grew fearful.

I can still see my grandfather throwing his hands up in the air and using his deep voice to scare us with his tale as we all huddled around his feet in awe. I smile at the memory.

Anyway, as the story goes, one night a large burning rock crashed into the king's chambers and in his fear he demanded that he's most powerful advisors find a way to protect him. The advisors transported the glowing rock to a metal smith who worked for 13 days and nights to craft an amulet, but no matter how hard he tried, he could not forge it into any shape he attempted … he hammered and worked the metal but in the end it choose its own shape, a shape unlike any god, symbol, or sigil anyone had ever seen.

The king had been expecting a likeness to one of his own gods … but no one expected the small mask with the horned headwear. The king gave it to his oldest son, believing in its power but that same night his son died as did all the other first born sons. The king was firstly overwhelmed with sorrow and then his sorrow turned to fury. He called forth his advisors and told them that on pain of death they would discover the origin and meaning of the horned god.

After two days of torture the metal smith died, but despite the pain could not explain how the mask had come to be, so the king's chief advisor, not willing to face the wrath of his king on his return, went forth into the world with a hundred armed warriors to find answers.

My great grandfather said that this advisor travelled further than any man of that time had ever dared. He travelled land and sea, but he could not and would not rest. Then one day he came to a new land, an unexplored land full of dense jungles and strange animals. And in the middle of these jungles the advisor found a temple shaped like a pyramid. He thought he had reached the home of the gods that he had been praying to all his life. They were taken to a great chamber, where to his amazement, sitting on a throne of gold, was a small child with blank eyes. He wore the same headrest as the one on the amulet. But the advisor didn't get a chance to congratulate himself on his find, for after years of travelling and searching he had lost half his men to sickness and storms … so they were no match for the child priest who offered them up as sacrifices to his own gods.

The child priest grew up to be a great and feared leader … sacrificing those who challenged him … destroying and conquering. And then one day he announced himself god of all men … and it was said that at that same instant, the heavens opened up and a great eagle swooped down to snatch the amulet from the priest's neck. His great kingdom vanished overnight, its people dispersing into the surrounding jungles, another great empire brought to ruin as the jungle reclaiming the temples of blood.

I know now and I did then that most of the story wasn't true … but there is some fact in every tale ever told. So I listened in awe as he told us of the eagle who took the amulet to the first leader of the Chippewa tribe. The eagle watched him, saw how he took only what he needed from the land for his people, living in harmony with nature. It landed next to the chief, offering the amulet as a gift. The chief at first was afraid, but the eagle spoke to him, as do all the animal spirits in Indian lore, and said that he had an important task … to keep the amulet safe until two great warriors of dark and light came to fight the evils that would rage across the lands. The amulet would keep the dark warrior safe from the evil fighting for power within him.

There was also a prophecy, a book, telling of the second son who was this dark warrior, but from what my great grandfather told me it wasn't the second born son it was the son who always came second in the eyes of their father. The chief was to hand it down to his sons and their son's son's until the day eventually arrived. I am from that long line of ancestry and the amulet is the same one now resting around the neck of Dean Winchester.

I shake my head again in amazement. The world works in mysterious ways. Things are as they should be. Dean is apparently the dark warrior from the prophecy … the second son. He is the one who could be turned to the ways of evil. It seems almost impossible to believe, but he has a darkness inside him that he's fighting … and the goodness that keeps him centred is his brother, Sam.

I look at the time again, its four thirty … and I'm starving. I go to the kitchen to rustle up some grub. I have a fully stocked kitchen, needs to be with all the trips I make up here. I contemplate just making a thick pot of soup … but that won't do for me … I'm a meat and hash browns kinda guy. I'm busy chopping the ingredients for the soup when I see Dean moving. I immediately go over to check on him, wiping my hands on my apron.

He stirs again, his eyes flickering open. He tries to focus on me for a second … his eyebrows going up as he looks up at me. I look down, I'm wearing a apron … shit it's got huge sunflowers all over it, no wonder the kids looking at me like that … laughter bubbles over as Deans expression suddenly makes sense.

"Don't worry kid, it's still me … George … not Martha Stewart."

He grins at me crookedly but then he suddenly pulls a face. I know that look and grab for the basin next to the couch.

"Don't … feel too good …"

The basin is under his nose as I lift him up and he wretches painfully. Nothing comes up but his body doesn't seem to realize this as he continues gagging. He finally falls back exhausted, huffing as he lies on his side, looking at Sam who's woken up and is gently rubbing Dean's arm, trying to offer some comfort.

"You okay Dean?"

He nods his head slowly.

"Sorry …"

"Hell son, don't be sorry … it's not your fault … probably just the smell of my cooking, my wife says it makes her nauseous as well."

Dean turns a bit green so I change the subject.

"How you holding up … do you need something for the pain?"

"… m' good …"

He looks at Sam again, he seems to be lucid. I wash my hands and come over to check on him again. He's sweating and his temperature has come down and his grumbling about me fussing … probably a true sign that he's really feeling better.

"… how ya doing Sammy?"

"Just peachy Dean …"

Sam grins down at his brother as Dean grumbles something about not mentioning food ever again. I help Dean to take a few sips of water, offering some to Sam as well and then once they're both settled I leave them to chat amongst themselves while I wash up and continue with my culinary techniques. I smile as I listen to them talking … ragging each other over who's the biggest girl … who's got the biggest scars … boys will be boys.

I manage to whip together a fine chicken noodle soup, some roasted vegetables with potatoes and a huge juicy steak in under an hour. I'm starved. I check on the boys … Dean's sleeping again, Sam's watching him sleep.

"Hey Sam … you hungry?"

He shakes his head but his stomach growls loudly at the exact same moment. I grin.

"Maybe a little."

He grins back sheepishly.

"Do you want some soup or do you think you can manage something with a little more starch?"

"Soup sound great for now … thanks George."

"No problem kiddo … here you go."

I help him sit up more comfortably, before pushing the warm cup of soup between his fingers. He sips at it contently as I pile my own plate and come over to join him. Dean is out of it again, so hopefully the smell won't bother him.

Sam and I just sit and chat … Sam telling me stories about the hunts they've been on, and all the times that Dean has looked out for him. I can tell that Sam thinks of Dean as more than just a brother. Dean's been his surrogate father as well as his best friend. I can see it in the way he looks at his sleeping brother … Dean's his role model, probably wants to be just like him one day.

Sam's reserved energy finally runs out again and he falls asleep. I'm pretty happy because their temperatures are back to normal thanks to the doses of antibiotics and they're both sleeping comfortably. I still check on them but they seem to be out of the woods for now. I settle myself in the chair next to the fireplace, the blanket over my knees again … if my wife saw me now she'd rag me about being an old man. Still love that woman though, shame she came with a mother. I chuckle until the image of her mother pops into my head and I grunt, that image follows me into sleep … a tirade of reprimands and finger wagging spoiling my dreams.

I wake up again with a jolt. I didn't realize I had fallen asleep … thought I was at home again with my mother in-law threatening to club me with a broom while my brave wife stood between us, protecting me from that 5 foot 2 inch terror.

I look up at the clock … it's eight o'clock … the storm is still raging outside by the sound of things. I look over at Dean, his eyes are open and his watching Sam sleep. I almost chuckle. They both seem to have the same habits. Watching him like this tears at my heart. The poor kid is filled with such a deep darkness, but I can see a light, it pours out of him every time he looks at his brother. It's the most intense love I have ever seen. Sam is what's keeping him grounded. I'd hate to imagine what would become of Dean if he lost this one ray of goodness in his life.

I think he senses that I'm awake because he looks over at me.

"Heya George … sleep well?"

He's grinning at me, like he's caught me with my hand in the cookie jar. Jerk.

"Nah, was just checking the back of my eyelids for cracks … you'll be pleased to know all is well."

Dean chuckles, but just as quickly turns serious again.

"Are you sure he's okay … I mean his leg … he's going to heal up just fine … right?"

I nod my head. I know the fear that he carries around inside himself. He nods his head in Sam's direction.

"He's a pain in the ass ya know, but I love him."

"I know."

The words are soft, not judgmental, just a statement of truth.

"There isn't anything, not one single thing that I wouldn't do for him to keep him safe. I've been looking after him his whole life. I'm supposed to take care of him, protect him, but I always mess it up. The number of times I've nearly lost him..."

He shakes his head as if to get those memories out of his head.

"If I lost him, I don't know what I'd do. I just don't know."

He chuckles cynically.

"That's why I can never let anything happen to him … I'll protect him always … it's my job."

"Dean, you're doing a great job."

He looks over at me, a tentative smile pulling at his lips, but I know that he doesn't believe my words.

"It's my fault that he's hurt. I should have protected him"

"The way I see it, you saved his life. I saw how you threw yourself between him and that wendigo."

He shakes his head.

"Yeah … but I pushed him and he got hurt. Every time I push, someone gets hurt … that's why I don't, I can't … I have to keep it together ya know … for them. That's why sometimes, it's just better to let it go … there's no point fighting, it's all just bigger than us … and I've accepted that."

He's reached that point again where he feels that he's said too much and I watch as the shutters go up behind his eyes. He's blocking his feelings, protecting himself again.

"So anyway … what does a guy have to do around here to get some grub?"

'You hungry?"

"Yessir … could eat me a whole flame grilled skunk, fur and all and I wouldn't complain."

We chuckle as I go over to get him some soup which I warm up on the stove. He manages to have half a cup before he gives up in defeat. He's not quite as well as he imagines himself to be.

We spend the next day having the most fun I've had in years. The boys aren't up to moving around, but I get them some old clothes that I had stashed in the cupboard, much to Dean's relief and we sit near the fireplace as I show them the different herbs and their uses. I also show them how to make pemmican. Dean absorbs everything like a sponge. He's quick to learn and very intelligent. Hell, if he put his mind to it he could probably be a doctor someday. But he keeps putting on this dumb act, brushing off my praise in favor of Sam. He's virtuous and self sacrificing and he adores his brother. They joke and tease but the whole time Dean lets Sam get the upper hand … never taking the limelight, acting dumb when Sam tells him something that he probably already knows, just boosting Sam's confidence.

Sam is teasing Dean about his flirtatious ways, while Dean tells funny stories about near misses with over protective boyfriends, still making it clear that he would never have made a pass at a girl if he knew she was hooked up in any way. I make a comment, almost jokingly about his nature, but I watch Dean's face.

"You know Dean, you're just too precious for this world."

Sam burst into hysterical laughter … it sounds pretty funny … considering the image Dean tries to portray, the one of the ultimate ladies man. But he's done it for years, and it's his way of escaping reality. He joins in the laughter, but when he looks at me I can see the hopes and dreams in his eyes. He doesn't believe that he's good … but I'm glad that I could plant that seed. Maybe it will nurture in him. He is good. He just doesn't know it yet.

At one point Sam is trying to mix a concoction for a poultice, but he can't seem to get it right, so Dean leans over to help him. I can see the irritation in Sam's face, he's at that age where he knows everything and he likes to do things his own way. He wants to learn on his own terms and he unintentionally lashes out at Dean in frustration.

"Just leave it Dean, I can do it!"

I see the deep hurt flickering for the briefest seconds in Dean's eyes, before he covers that pain with a snarky remark.

"Listen princess … we're not baking a pie … so leave out the cinnamon."

Sam snorts but I can see that he's instantly sorry for what he said. The relief is evident in Dean's body language though … he's averted another unnecessary war of words. He protects his vulnerability with a wicked sense of humor. The funny thing is that his family doesn't even see him doing it. He's become that good at hiding his feelings. This boy may have a darkness in him, but the good in him far outweighs it. It's another thing I've noticed in the short time we've spent together. He's sensitive to words. They cut him like a razor, but they also heal him just as quickly. Sam's soft apology as he hands Dean the cinnamon stick is a like a balm, instantly erasing the hurt. I shake my head in amazement. It's no wonder he hides his feelings and puts up a protective barrier … he wouldn't survive the battering it would give his soul.

A day later and there's a loud knock on the door. I've bolted and latched it, but the storm is finally over, so I'm not surprised to see John Winchester standing outside with my wife a few feet behind him.

"I hear you saved my boys … thank you!"

His hand immediately goes out for a firm handshake.

"Yeah … it was no problem … you've got great kids."

He just smiles at me, but it doesn't reach his weary eyes as he pushes past me. I can hear the boys in the background. They sound happy even though I can still hear the 'yes siring' and 'fine siring' behind me … he definitely was a military man, but I ignore them for a second to give my wife a passionate kiss as I lift her up into my embrace, her squeals only encouraging me to smack her on her cute butt. She slaps my hand away and gives me her pretend angry face … I love that face. I kiss her cold nose quickly before we enter the cabin together.

"He's a tough nut to crack."

She nods her head in John's direction as I chuckle.

"Yup … I could tell."

Dean is standing next to Sam, who is sitting up straight on the couch. He's reporting in military detail everything that happened from the time they were attacked until now.

John just nods his head, but he cups both Death and Sam behind the neck … the only sign of affection he seems capable of giving. I feel sorry for him. I can't pretend to know what he's been going through. The death of his wife … hell if I ever lost my wife I don't know what I'd do, what I'd become … and the added fear of looking after two boys by himself while fighting and hunting … knowing what's out there … knowing that his boys could get hurt or worse. I'd probably also have them army trained. He's turning them into soldiers and it's hard to watch, but it's not my place to tell him his business. It's because of him that those two boys will be able to save the world one day.

My wife whips together something decent for us to eat before we all head back down the mountain. They came up with the horses … the trails up here are too treacherous for snow mobiles. Dean and Sam ride uncomfortably, but they don't complain, John riding ahead, the man looks indestructible. I can see why his boys admire him, and I can see why Dean tries to be like him, he looks like freaking John Wayne, hell even I'm sitting up straighter.

Finally back at the base camp I leave John to check on the boy's injuries. He's the 'take-charge' kind, so I don't even try to interfere when he checks Dean's back and Sam's leg.

"Nice work George … you ever been in the military?"

"Nope … just been around a bunch of clumsy people most of my life."

John grins … his got a strong jaw line and a friendly smile … deep down I can see he's a good man. We leave Sam and Dean, Sam's curiosity getting the better of him as he inspects Dean's back.

"Ow!"

"What?"

"That hurt!"

"Dean … I haven't even touched you yet."

"Yeah, but it's the thought that counts"

Both John and I chuckle as we move away, out of ear shot. We need to talk, there are things he needs to know. We sit down at my desk, each holding a steaming cup of coffee. I start off by telling him that I'm also a hunter, which doesn't seem to surprise him. Guess I'm not as covert as I imagine myself to be. Always kinda thought of myself as the Cree Nation's answer to James Bond, but with one knowing look from the famous John Winchester all my dreams are blown out of the water. At least my wife still thinks I'm James Bond … well at the very least Austin Powers. I grin as I waggle my eyebrows at her across the room. She rolls her eyes … damn woman doesn't know a good thing when she sees it.

I start by telling him about the prophecy but he interrupts me halfway.

"Listen George, I appreciate the concern, but I've already heard about this prophecy."

Should've guessed.

"I also know that there's a chapter in that damn book that I wish nobody had ever found out about. The chapter where my second son may turn evil … and I know ... I know that if I can't save him, I'm going to have to kill him."

I nod my head. There's no need for words. The tormented look in his eyes tells of his anguish. I can see and feel his pain. He looks up at me with such determination that I almost move backwards.

"But you see, the difference is that I won't let it happen. I won't let anything bad ever happen to my boys. I'll protect them with my dying breath. If it's the last thing I do I'll save my son, I don't ever want to be faced with the alternative."

I'm relieved that he knows. It will help him. Help him to protect his boy against the forces of evil. And hopefully he'll succeed because if he doesn't, he may need to destroy his own flesh and blood. I don't know how he is going to do it, but if he turns evil, John will have to find that strength from somewhere. Just as long as he understands that if he can't save his son, he'll have to kill him ... he'll have to kill Dean.

I pour us each a tot of whiskey and we both down the strong liquid in one gulp. If ever there was a time for whiskey … it's definitely now. We get up, a silent understanding passing between us. John's ready to leave … he says they have a possible lead in Wyoming for another hunt. Besides there's nothing left to say … there's no comfort I can give him and my heart breaks for him knowing that he needs to carry that knowledge around with him, hoping that the time will never arrive where he has to use it.

He thanks us again before talking to Dean, giving him coordinates and leaving in his black pick-up truck. Dean watches him drive away in silence then turns to help as we pack up the rest of their things into the Impala. I shake Sam's hand and then pull him in for an awkward but affectionate hug. The kids already tall and it doesn't look like he's going to stop growing anytime soon. He hobbles over to the passenger side and sits down with the door still open. Dean says that they will stop off at the nearest hospital to get his foot x-rayed and plastered. I push a bottle of antibiotics into his hand ... just in case.

Dean pats me firmly on the shoulder. Hugs aren't on the agenda for him, even though the kid could use a good hug every now and then. Damn I'm getting soft in my old age.

"Thanks for everything pal, really, you saved our asses back there … I don't know what would have happened to us if you hadn't come along …"

Then softly so only I can hear him …

"… and thanks for the training, I really enjoyed that, sure it's going to be useful in our line of work!"

"No problem dude … anytime."

He chuckles, shaking his head.

"You realize nobody says dude anymore George, just you and my dad, it went out in the 80's."

"What … are you shitting me kid? … 'dude' is like the manliest thing a guy can say … it's the universal language of macho!"

I waggle my eyebrows as he raises his own in surprise, seeming to mull that idea around in his brain for a second, finally nodding his head in agreement.

"Really? Dude …"

He lets the word roll off his tongue, getting into the driver's side of his Chevy, slamming his door in unison with Sam, who's already sitting shotgun, waving at me enthusiastically. Dean grins rakishly as he looks back at me.

"… you know … I think I like it."

**TBC ;0)**


	5. Chapter 3

**Note:** Shucks guys … thanks again for the wonderful reviews grins happily … I'm going to frame them all LOL ;0) Cookies for everyone who spotted my jump from Egyptian to Incan to Indian lore with the amulet LOL ;0) – Reason you ask? Well Jensen apparently said in an interview that the amulet was an Egyptian protection charm and far be it from me to question his judgment LOL ;0). And secondly, yup … seems that YED and daddy Winchester got the wrong end of the stick when they read the prophecy. Only The Hunter and George realized that it was referring to Dean and not Sammy as the second son. John was just jumping to conclusions in the last chapter, thinking George was referring to Sam … bummer LOL ;0)

Still just mixing fact with fiction and actual history. The whole devious plot living in my paranoid head, so please don't sue me. Hope that clarifies any questions from Chapter 2, now onto chapter 3 … enjoy!

Thanks as always to my fantabulous beta PADavis who saves me from myself.

**Warning:** Mild Language

* * *

**Chapter 3**

'**The Colt' **

**The Hunter's POV**

Connecticut - November 1842

"Do you Caroline Henshaw take John Colt as your lawfully wedded husband?"

I look over at the man standing next to me. His hands are shaking slightly, his shoulders bent, hiding his tall frame as a tentative smile pulls at his lips. He's wearing a long leather overcoat and a Stetson hat, the best money can buy. It's funny how history repeats itself though. The way the light through the bars catches him, he almost looks frail and gaunt … so similar to Bruno on that last day I saw him, before the hell hounds dragged him away.

"I do."

I put on a radiant smile, my eye's flicking across to Samuel who is standing just to the right behind his brother. A knowing look passing between us. He at least has the decency to look guilty. He ought to be, we were lovers once, and the bastard spurned me, actually hurt my ego a bit … I should have killed him then, would have too, but I need something from him. I'll do anything to get my hands on it.

"Then I now pronounce you man and wife."

It takes just about all of my willpower not to laugh at that statement. John moves closer, his lips skimming mine in a tentative kiss, his thumb rubbing over the gold ring on my finger as he clutches my hand.

I flick a stray lock of my black hair out of my face and behind my ear. I'm still in Sophie's body, her soul long destroyed, but she … I … haven't changed a bit, except for my name. I'm now Caroline Henshaw Colt. I smile up at him. I still look as beautiful as ever, using my charms to get closer to Samuel, and failing that, getting closer to Samuel through his brother John. I'm very patient.

To all the world right now I look like the happy bride. Well as happy as a bride could be under the circumstances. We're standing in a small prison cell, and John has just been sentenced to death by hanging for a murder. Seems all the men in Sophie's life end up in prison. I'd laugh hysterically at that fact, if we were alone. According to the prosecutor, John and a man called Adam had a dispute over a bill, which led them to blows. The prosecutor said Adam was blameless and that John had killed him with a blow to the head with a hatchet. I know John Colt … he killed the man in self defense. Adam was choking him to death when he struck back. But John panicked and tried to get rid of the body, which made it easy for the prosecutor. If he'd had a good defense lawyer, he might have been spared, but I made sure he didn't. Hundreds of people were waiting outside the courtroom to hear the verdict … but John's appeal was denied. It was just an accident and now an innocent man has to die. It's the only reason I'm still playing along with this silly charade.

I disguise my victorious smirk with a smile as Samuel and the friends that came to witness our marriage finally leave.

"I'll be waiting for you John …"

Samuel is leaning in towards his brother, whispering in his ear and winking at him, giving him a silent message as he shakes his brother's hand and leaves the two of us alone in the cell. He has plans to rescue John from the noose … they've planned a daring escape, but it's not going to work, I'll make sure of that. The preacher is the last to go, patting John on the back as he walks by. He gave him his last rights just before the wedding while I waited outside.

I look up at the doomed man in front of me.

It's been almost 300 years since Bruno died, 300 years of living in Sophie's body. This body is way past its expiry date, just my supernatural powers have been keeping it alive. Moving from place to place, reading the prophecy that I took from Bruno all those many years ago. Trying to find a way to stop what was foretold. It led me here … led me to Samuel Colt … the man who is destined to change the course of history, change the outcome of the ultimate battle between good and evil. And well, we just can't have that now can we?

"Caroline … you've made me the happiest man in the world today."

His voice is soft and full of love. It makes me sick. I had to play a role, so I became Sam's mistress, birthing his illegitimate child. A child I've given up for adoption not 2 days ago. I've named him Samuel Weems. I don't want him to be found because he's special, just as his children's children will be special. They'll all display unique abilities, after all he has demon blood in him. And finally marrying Sam's pathetic brother because he thought he was doing me a favor, saving Caroline from a huge scandal, but also saving Samuel. Protecting his younger brothers reputation because he's a married man … the things I do for power!

"John … sweet, foolish John."

I run my finger along his jaw, his eyes looking at me in sudden blank confusion.

"Dear man … you just don't get it do you? I'm glad … so glad you are going to die."

I let the words hang in the air. The shock on his face is almost humorous.

"Do you really think I'd let Sam rescue you? Did you really think that I would suffer your amorous affections for the rest of my life?"

He starts shaking his head in denial, a faint cry escaping his lips. I don't want to tell him I'm a demon, hell even a 'chief' of demons, I can just imagine his expression. No … no point in that … besides his soul is too good, I'd never be able to convert him to our side in time. He's going to that 'better place' everyone keeps harping on about. But I figure if we can't have him, I can still destroy his soul … destroy his faith in love … so I lie to him … it's the least I can do.

"I just used you, for your name, for your wealth … I have what I want now … and soon I'll have your brother too. He's the one that I've always wanted, and with you gone I can become his mistress again … he was always better then you John … even in bed."

He raises his hand, and for an instant it looks like he's going to hit me. But instead his hands start shaking again as he forcibly restrains himself and tears pour down his face. A shame really, for a second there I thought maybe he'd grown a pair.

"Why? Why are you doing this to me?"

"The preacher said for better or worse … and well I wanted you to understand the full impact of those words. You've never been better John … only worse! Samuel was always the better brother. I need him for his knowledge, you'll never know how much. But I had to wait … luckily I'm very patient … and now it's finally all paying off."

"But I love you Caroline … I always have …"

The delusional fool.

"John, don't you realize? I needed to stay close to Samuel, and when he didn't want me anymore, I had to find another way … that way was you. I ought to thank you really. I mean you went and made it so easy for me, killing that man … I couldn't have planned it any better."

My words are slowly killing him. It's always fun to watch a heart break and I grin as I lean closer, pushing something into his hand while whispering into his ear.

"Good-bye John … I'll take good care of your body … I promise."

His puzzled and haunted eyes follow me as I sway out the door, my name a desperate whimper on his lips. I ignore it, nodding curtly at the guard standing on the steps, making him blush. Sophie was a beautiful woman, but I need a change.

I wait outside, knowing what's about to happen next. The jailers go in to take John to the scaffold, but there is suddenly a scurry of activity and shouts as they find his dying body. From the yells for help I know what's happened, it's what I expected him to do. He's stabbed himself with the pocketknife I gave him. He stabbed himself in the heart … I smile again as I move around the back of the building. I've had enough of playing the damsel in distress. Sophie's mouth opens one last time as I swirl out of her throat in a thick black fog, lightning flashes somewhere in the distance. I feel exhilarated again … I hate humans and it feels good to be in my natural form. But unfortunately it can't be for long. I summon the fires of hell and suddenly the jail bursts into flames. The jailers still in the building run out, leaving John's body in the locked cell. I enter the flaming structure without anyone seeing me and slip with ease into my new meat suit. It takes me a second to get comfortable. He's much bigger then Sophie, more leg space … I like it!

I stand up as I hear the yelling outside, people rushing around to douse the flames. Straightening my long coat I raise my arms, almost like conducting a symphony, and the fire intensifies tenfold. The building will burn to the ground, leaving no evidence, so I step back into the void and disappear. John Colt is dead … but from this day forth, wearing his body, I'll be known as the Hunter.

_**2 weeks later**_

I'm standing in the corner of the room, invisible to the man sitting at his desk, working. I've been watching his every move. The death of his brother nearly broke him. He was frantic, trying to find out what had happened, how their rescue plans had gone so wrong. They found Sophie's badly decomposed body behind the prison. Once my life force left her body it deteriorated quickly. I didn't want anyone to know that she had been possessed, but I made a critical mistake. I should have gotten rid of her body, because when Samuel found her, he noticed the sulphur residue. He immediately understood the implications. He's been dabbling in the occult for years and in his line of work he's met men who hunt supernatural creatures for a living. It was the reason he was making this weapon, a weapon that can kill demons. It was written in the prophecy. He's been working on what he's been calling his "secret project" … and he's just finished. I watch as he loads another chamber with one of the 13 bullets that he has painstakingly handcrafted.

"You can come out now."

I almost jump … is it possible? I stand still for a minute longer, maybe he's just talking to himself.

"I know you're here, you son of a bitch … I can feel it … show yourself!"

His voice is raw with emotion, but I still hesitate … I'm not stupid … he has the gun in his hands.

"I SAID SHOW YOURSELF! I want to look at the monster who killed my brother … don't think I didn't figure it all out."

He stands up, aiming around the room. A shot reverberates around the small enclosure, the bullet embedding itself in the wall opposite me.

He knows, somehow he knows. I need to give the man credit … he's a genius … should have realized he would figure it out. He knows all about supernatural beings, demons included, and the suspicious death of his brother has driven him to finally finish his masterpiece. I move out of the shadows, slowly revealing my form. He spins around to stare at me, his eyes growing wide with horror.

"John?"

I'm taking a risk, he could shoot me.

"Yeah it's me brother."

I watch his face. His eyes are filled with tears as he slowly shakes his head.

"Goddamit John … this can't be real … am I seeing a ghost?"

I chuckle softly, a warm familiar smile planting itself on my face.

"No … it's me Sammy … I know this seems unbelievable, but it's really still me … it's still John."

He raises the gun, aiming it at my heart … this could be the end, but I already know the outcome of this confrontation thanks to the prophecy … so I carefully lift my hand, palm up … a pleading look on my face. This will have to be the best damn act ever if I want to win him over.

"You're not my brother!"

He almost spits the words out.

"It's true, I know I'm different and I've changed, I can feel it … but deep inside I'm still the same man … I remember our childhood, how I was the only one who could ever call you Sammy. I'm your big brother and I'm not evil Sam … I'm just here for revenge and god sent me back."

I'm almost expecting lightning to strike me down where I stand as I lie to his face.

"All I want to do is hunt down the evil sons of bitches that did this to me. I want to make things right. I'm strong enough to do it now, I've become this powerful force Sammy, almost like an angel of death … but I need your help …"

He's still shaking his head, as he slowly begins lowering the gun.

"No … No … please god no …"

"Sammy? Sammy, look at me … please, you have to trust me. You know me better than anyone. I was never evil, I'm still not … I just want a chance to destroy the evil that's out there, it's god's will … help me … by helping me you'll be helping mankind, and eventually Sammy, eventually after my work here is done, my soul will finally find peace."

His face is full of conflicting emotions, he's not sure if he should trust me … but I know I've won when the gun, the "Colt" hits the wooden floor with a thump. He falls to his knees sobbing.

"John … I can't … I can't kill you … take it …"

I reach for the Colt and he tentatively hands it up to me. His broken sobs wracking his body as he looks up at me … only seeing the brother that he loved and lost.

That was almost too easy, humans are pathetic. I take the weapon … the cool metal giving me a surge of renewed power. This is what I've been waiting for, my prize … I have the legendary Colt. I'm going to make my way up the demon ranks now with this weapon, killing my opponents and rivals. I want to be Lucifer's right hand man … but there's no hurry … like I've said before, I have patience, I can wait.

I lean forward to touch Samuel Colts shoulder, smiling down at him. He just smiles back at me sadly, he'll never know what he did here today … how he became a pawn in the ultimate battle between good and evil. I step back, taking the Colt with me and fading into the darkness … his heart wrenching sobs following me as I disappear.

_**6 years later**_

13 bullets … there were only 13 bullets … and now I have 6 left. Oh well, 6 was always my lucky number. I'm aiming the Colt at Lilith's brother … he's been a thorn in my side for months now, trying to usurp me, trying to gain power and control in his greed to become the leader of the demon army. There are constant wars in the demon realm … but I've managed to stay at the top of my game, I've been around for a very long time and I'm at the top of the seventh hierarchy. Now, with the help of the Colt, which turned out to be true to form, I've been killing all things supernatural that stand in my way, nothing can or has stopped me.

"Come on Abaddon … can't we talk about this?"

He's using my demon name, his coal black eyes glare at me imploringly … just for a second … before I pull the trigger.

His body jerks, shaking as sparks radiate through his meat suit … he tried to scream, never got that far. I chuckle as his eyes finally go dull and he collapses in a heap before my feet.

"He had it coming."

I turn to look at Lilith, she moves closer to wrap her arm in mine, shaking her head as she looks down at her brother, pushing at his dead body with her boot.

"You're a cold hearted bitch, honey…"

She smiles up at me.

"… but that's what I like about you!"

She presses against me, going onto her toes to kiss my cheek.

"And all this time I thought it was my charm?"

Lilith looks over at our other companion. Her fair hair glistening in the moonlight as she silently watches us. I came across her in London during the black plague, before I went to Italy. I had been possessing a man back in those days, a good looking one to boot. Never seen so much death and destruction, it was beautiful. That's where I met her, she had been a witch, and she'd sold her soul for eternal life and beauty. The plague had apparently left her deformed beyond recognition. But when I met her, she was beautiful. I taught her how to tap into her deepest darkest desires and make them a reality, and in return she became my own personal whore. Just like Lilith, although Lilith has been around a lot longer. They've travelled with me on many occasions, and every now and then we go our seperate ways, but we're back together again and they're fawning over me. I grin. I am much older and wiser than both of them put together and their quest for power in the demon realm keeps them at my side.

I lean forward, placing the Colt in her outstretched subservient hand, running my thumb along her full bottom lip.

"Take it, and hide it away. Make sure nobody can get at it … we'll come back for it later."

She nods her head … she's done this before … and she lives to please me, but there's been something strange about her behavior lately, I can't put my finger on it … I'll have to keep an eye on her.

Lilith and I start walking, we want to be back in town before sunrise. Just as we start to fade into the dark shadows I call over my shoulder.

"And make it quick Ruby … I've made dinner reservations for us … and you know how I hate to be late!"

_**TBC ;0)**_

_Next chapter is the final showdown from Dean's POV … ;0)_

**Notes:** Just for reference, the trial and death of John Colt, brother to Samuel Colt did actually happen as described in my story, but I doubt it played out exactly like this in real life LOL ;0)

Plus ... do yourselves a huge favor and get a copy of the new Supernatural Comic called Rising Son from Wildstorm ... they've really cranked up the storyline and artwork since Origins ... in my opinion it's brilliant ... and a fantastic look into the lives of John and the boys before the Pilot episode ... 1 of 6 is out now - get your copy pronto!!


	6. Chapter 4

**Notes:** Thanks as always for the wonderful reviews … so here it finally is guys … my version of the Season 3 finale, so if you've been bored hopefully this will notch it up a bit LOL ;0) – I'm starting with a prelude, and following on with the action "grins evilly" – and I'm horrified and yet still riveted to find out what Kripke is going to dish out to us in his Season finale … I hope I survive!!

This is also one hellava long chapter, and I contemplated splitting it into 2 chapters, but you guys have been so patient with my late posts, I thought what the hey … so grab a cuppa coffee or tea and make yourselves comfortable LOL ;0) – and according to Phoebe, grab some tissues LOL ;0) – reviews still make me happy ;0)

As always, thanks to said awesome beta Phoebe – who has to read through my drivel before you guys do LOL ;0) – all mistakes are always mine! … and peeps … keep an eye out for her story Canaveral which should be 'airing' today LOL ;0) – I freaking love it!!

Enjoy! ;0)

**Warning:** Mild Language

* * *

**Chapter 4**

**The Deal**

"Prelude"

**Dean's POV**

I look at the limp piece of pizza hanging from my fingertips for a minute before throwing it back into the full box … it's the third time I've tried to eat it, but I'm just not hungry. Funny how your appetite disappears when you're almost numb with fear. I look over at Sammy who's sitting next to me on the floor of our motel room, leaning up against my bed, our knees touching. He's not even pretending anymore, just given up on supper all together. We should really eat something, tomorrows going to be one hellava day. I chuckle softly, shaking my head.

Sammy stops staring at the fascinating spot on the wall and turns to look at me, a small smile tugging at his lips.

"What?"

"Just thinking how you and I must be the two sorriest sons of bitches in the world right now!"

He chuckles, nodding his head in agreement as I take another swig of my beer. We sit in silence again … not knowing what to say to each other. There's so much we could say … hell I could write a book … but at the same time those words would almost be like saying goodbye … a reality neither one of us can face right now. We're clinging to what little courage we have left. I'm almost tempted to just grab Sammy and our gear and hightail it out of here, drive until we fall off the edge of the earth … but I know it won't help. I can't escape this deal … so we wait, and we brood … it's what we Winchesters do best.

There's a knock on the door and Sammy gets up to answer it. I don't even look up, I know who it is.

"Hey Sam … how you boys holding up?"

"Okay I guess …"

Sam's voice is soft and I can feel their eyes on me. I turn my head to look at them.

"Hi Bobby."

"Hey Dean … just wanted to make sure you boys didn't need anything …"

I grin humorlessly.

"You making sure I get my last requests?"

"Dean!"

Sammy's looking at me incredulously and I almost laugh when I find that I'm trying to memorize that look … memorize his face … I don't want to forget him, not a single thing … god, that's such a chick thing to do.

"I didn't mean …"

Bobby seems at a loss for words and I feel like an asshole. I rub my hand across my tired eyes.

"I'm sorry Bobby … just a little on edge is all …"

"It's okay son, I understand … it's just … well you know how I've been looking for that bastard that robbed you boys back at the hospital a few months back … we finally found him 2 weeks ago."

"Shit Bobby … really? Why didn't you say anything, where was he, did he have our things?"

Bobby chuckles putting a placating hand on Sam's arm. Sam's almost bouncing.

"Hold yur horses boy … yes we found him … but he pawned your stuff off, that's why I didn't tell you, had to make sure first. But I got a lead yesterday, sent someone over to check it out for me. Apparently the owner of the shop swore high and low that he didn't know the goods were stolen, but it didn't take much convincing … luckily he hadn't sold anything yet … and well … here …"

He holds out his hand, Sammy's watch and my amulet resting in his palm. Tears start clouding my vision and I quickly rub my hand across my face. My heart swells as I watch Sammy take his watch, a huge smile plastered on his face … almost as huge as when he first got it as a Christmas present from me. I get up slowly, moving forward and then tentatively picking up the pendant from Bobby's hand. My pendant … god I've missed this thing. I place it around my neck, smiling stupidly as it falls into place. My throat suddenly feels tight.

"Bobby … I don't know what to say …"

"It's okay Dean …" he grabs me behind the neck shaking me gently, "I'm just glad I was able to find it …" his eyes look up heavenward for a second, "… someone up there must be looking out for you two."

Sammy moves his wrist around, checking the compass attachment on his watch, his grin still blinding as he suddenly grabs a surprised Bobby in a tight bear hug. The kid is such a softy but I can't help but smile too as Bobby pulls his hanky out of his pocket and blows his nose loudly.

"Okay, that's enough of that Sam!"

He chuckles.

"You boys need to get some rest …"

Sammy taps Bobby on the back, pulling himself straight.

"Yeah, right … you're right …"

I shake my head at the two of them … I'm surrounded by girls.

"We're all going to be ready for tomorrow Sam … we'll get that demon … you just have to have faith, both of you."

He looks at me pointedly but it's Sammy who snorts in derision, which seems kinda strange, seeing as he's always the one who clings to his beliefs. I look at him for a second, wandering what's going on in that mind of his. I know I tease him about being religious but I don't want this, I don't want him to lose his faith … and I definitely don't want to be the one to take that away from him. Especially not now.

Bobby's voice drops as he whispers to Sam, but I can still hear him.

"Sam, if you need anything … just call … Ellen's in the room at the end of the passage, I'm next door."

"Thanks Bobby ... for everything."

He leaves and Sam closes the door as I rub my thumb over the pendant, my gift from Sammy. I didn't think I'd ever see it again and it feels so good to have it back … it's almost as if it's found its way home. I grin again as I walk to the bathroom. I don't know how much sleep I'm going to get, but I need to try … I need to be at my best, give 100 … it's going to be a deadly battle and I can't let anything happen to Sam, Bobby or Ellen … I won't. I splash water on my face, looking at my reflection in the mirror. I can almost see those dark black orbs staring back at me, those demon eyes … my heartbeat quickens … I don't ever want to be that monster. I push away from the basin and grab a towel before returning to the room, scrubbing at my face … trying to get that image out of my head. Sammy is sitting on the bed. We have everything ready for tomorrow. We've checked and re-checked our weapons. We have a detailed plan of how things are going to go down tomorrow evening. It's probably going to be one of the toughest battles we've ever had to face, but we won't be alone. We still don't have the colt thanks to Bella, but we have Ruby's blade. Sammy managed to convince her to lend it to us … it's the only other weapon we know of that can kill demons.

I sit opposite Sammy on my bed.

"I can't believe he found our things Dean …"

"Yeah … and all the trouble he went to … it's just so …"

"… typically Bobby." Sammy finishes for me.

I nod my head as I look down at the little mask resting on my chest. My protection amulet. It's one of the few things I possess … one of the few things I love …

"Sammy?"

"Yeah."

"I want you to wear it …"

I pull the cord over my neck again, letting the pendant dangle from my hand as I reach over to give it to Sam. His eyes grow wide and he starts shaking his head.

"No … I … I don't want it Dean … please …"

I knew I'd get this reaction so I lean over to take his hand, pressing the amulet into his palm.

"Sammy … please … for me. It's just a loan bro. After the battle you can give it back to me."

I try to sound confident, but I fail miserably.

"Dean…" his voice quavers with emotion and I have to fight back my own tears, "... we're going to beat this thing … I don't know how … but we are, and no matter what we're not going out without a fight! You hear me! We have to win … we don't have a choice."

I nod my head, determination and fear fighting for control within me.

His eyes are glistening as he puts the amulet around his neck, without further complaint. It looks good on him and I can't help but smile. I know he's just doing it to make me happy, he isn't even putting up a real fight … and I'm grateful. I guess deep down on some subconscious level he doesn't want to butt heads with me, doesn't want things to end the way they did with dad.

We each take turns to shower and change before getting into bed. I'm suddenly soul weary. I almost feel tempted to send up a prayer … maybe someone up there is looking out for us … and if they are, asking for some help shouldn't hurt any. I push my hand under my pillow as I lie down, my hand wrapping around the hilt of the knife I keep there, old habits die hard, before I reach over to turn off the bedside lamp. There's silence for a moment, and I almost think Sammy's fallen asleep.

"Night Dean …"

His faltering voice breaks my heart. I can hear his unspoken words ...

"Night Sammy."

… I love you too.

**Four Hours Later**

I'm gonna kick his ass! I hit the steering wheel in frustration. What the hell is going on inside that head of yours Sam? I cannot believe he actually has the nerve, especially after we agreed to do this thing together. It was my freaking deal and my freaking choice … and we were going to face those bastards as a team, but he's gone, Sammy's gone … and god only knows what he's planning! Shit … I'm so angry at him I could burst a blood vessel. My emotions are warring inside my chest. I'm mad as a rattlesnake and yet, how can I blame him when I'd probably do the exact same thing in his place.

I woke up 15 minutes ago to an empty room. 3 o'clock in the morning and Sammy was gone, I felt sick. The beer bottles and untouched pizza were still littering the floor. I've almost made peace with the fact that I may die today, almost … and I thought Sammy had as well, but he was just acting along and at this very moment he's probably trying to make a deal with the demon that has my contract. The fear that thought evokes has me stepping on the accelerator.

I'm going to kill him!

We've tried everything, there's no way out of this deal so we made a contingency plan. We're going to fight the demons, hopefully kill every last one of them. It's a long shot, but it's the only option. Sammy going off to bargain for my life wasn't part of the plan, cause if he interferes, he dies. My heart jumps in my throat. I can't and I won't let that happen! Never again! Damnit Sam! I swerve onto the dust road. I know exactly where he went … it's the place where I'm meant to die. The crossroads where I made the deal a year ago. It feels like a week ago. I had to hotwire a friggin' Ford cause the jerk took the Impala, probably pushed her a few blocks before starting her engine, cause I sure as shit didn't hear him leave. So now I can just add grand theft auto to my list of misdemeanors, not like I can go to hell twice for my crimes and I sure as hell won't be going to prison. I was so mad when I left I forgot to call Bobby. Better phone him now and tell him the shit's about to hit the fan.

I flip my cell phone open, hitting speed dial. It rings twice before he answers.

"Dean … that you? Where the hell are you boys at?"

I snort, un-amused.

"I'm in a stolen vehicle, trying to get to my dumbass brother who's gone to the crossroads to confront the demon by himself … the stupid idiotic jerk!"

My voice is harsh, but I don't give a damn … If the demon doesn't kill Sam, then I'm going to!

"Shit Dean … we'll leave immediately … and for god's sake boy … try to keep yourself and your brother alive until we get there!"

I slam the phone shut … my throat tightening up in anger. A few minutes later I see it up ahead … I can see him standing there next to the Impala … alone. Thank god. I pull up sharply, stones spraying as I slam on the brakes. The door vibrates as I slam it closed and march up to him. He manages to step back before I push him with force against the Chevy's door. My hand flat on his chest, near his throat … I don't trust myself not to throttle him right now as I scream into his face.

"SAM! What the hell is going on? What do you think you're doing?"

He has the decency to look guilty, but there's something else in his eyes. If I didn't know any better I'd say it was defeat … god is it possible? Does he believe that this isn't going to work after he's been on my case 24/7 for the last few weeks? He's been the one who's held it together for a change, telling me things were going to be alright, telling me this whole mess would be fixed. I can see it in his eyes now … he was lying … he doesn't believe, he's lost his faith … he knows he can't save me.

I start shaking, pushing myself away from him as I begin to pace, rubbing my hand viciously through my hair. Shit, I didn't need this, not now … I need hope, I need faith … god I need something … and my only lifeline, the only person I've been relying on, has already given up. I stop to stare at him in disbelief, tears falling unheeded down my cheeks.

He looks at me with those eyes that can break me, and realization suddenly hits home … he came out here to sacrifice himself. I fight the urge to puke.

"I'm sorry Dean … I couldn't, I can't let you go. I'll do anything, anything to stop this deal."

His body is trembling slightly, I can see it from here. I shake my head, my knuckles going white as I fist my hands together, not trusting myself to lose it completely and punch his lights out in frustration. He's scaring the shit out of me right now!

"Sam … you listen to me, and you listen good!"

My voice is shaking with unrestrained anger, but mostly fear.

"I'm not going to let you make a deal for my life, and I sure as hell am not going to let you sacrifice yourself for me, not after all I've been through this year, all I've given up … we are sticking with the plan. Do you hear me Sam? Cause you better get it into that thick skull of yours … we're going to fight whatever the demons throw our way … and if we lose, we lose … if I go to hell, then that's how it has to be. But I need you Sammy … I need you to believe we can win this thing … I can't do this by myself."

I swallow hard.

"Please Sammy, for once, just this once … I need you to be strong for me … please."

Sam looks at me silently for a moment, his body still trembling … then he moves forward, and grabs me in a hug. I cling to him, tears blurring my vision as we hold onto each other. I don't care how stupid we look right now, and I just pray Bobby doesn't arrive to see us like this, but it's the first time in a year that we both have a chance to release some of the tension and worry and doubts we've been having. I hold him tighter, my baby brother, trying to give and receive strength and comfort from our deep bond. When we are both calm enough to look at each other, I grab Sam's face between my hands, a look of determination on my own.

"You okay? You ready to do this thing together?"

He chuckles, sniffing.

"Yeah … Yeah, I'm ready."

"Oh, isn't this just too precious. You're both so willing to die for each other, it's actually quite touching."

We both jump in surprise. There's a woman dressed in black standing under the arch of an old wrought iron gate on one side of the crossroads. My heart starts hammering in my chest. I know who it is.

"Lilith."

"In the flesh**, **handsome."

I look at Sam.

"Did you summon her?"

He shakes his head, moving closer to stand next to me. She throws back her head and laughs.

"He didn't need to Dean … I've been waiting here, sussing the place out. Wouldn't want a bunch of hunters to get the jump on me now would I? But I must admit, I wasn't expecting you so soon."

Sammy and I reach for our guns at the same time … the other weapons are still in the trunk of the car … shit I should've expected this. Now she's got us at a disadvantage … the plans already going to hell, excuse the pun.

The Ford's headlights begin strobing, and a strong gust of wind suddenly picks up. The air is reverberating with energy … and we watch as five dark figures instantly appear behind Lilith. We can't see their faces but they're definitely all demons. Six of them in total … great.

One of them steps forward. He's tall, with a long coat and hat … and he seems strangely familiar. He's holding an old book and a piece of parchment.

"Dean … Sammy, it's so good to see you boys."

Sammy levels his gun at the new arrival, his voice dripping venom.

"Who are you?"

"I'm hurt Sam, truly I am … after saving you boys back at the hospital, and this is the greeting I get? Oh wait, I took away your memories didn't I? Well then I guess introductions are in order … I'm Abaddon, chief of the demons of the seventh hierarchy of hell … but you can just call me The Hunter."

I'm almost expecting him to take a bow.

"Listen asshole … I don't care who you are but you're definitely going back to hell with the rest of your cronies, you're not getting my brother, and you're not getting me."

Where in god's name are Bobby and Ellen? Come on guys, we could use the help round about now.

The demon laughs as he moves over to stand next to Lilith, handing her the piece of parchment. She links her arm in his as she grins up at him. I really hope they aren't related … cause I wouldn't put it past them.

"You see Sam … it's not you I'm after … your dad and Azazel, or YED as you liked to call him … well they all thought you were the evil one … but you aren't the evil one ..."

He grins through yellowish teeth.

"… it's your brother Dean.'

The shock of his words hit me like a blow to the chest. I shake my head … he's lying … he has to be.

"Oh it's true boys, I know for a fact. There's a prophecy …"

He holds up a warn leather book, it definitely looks ancient.

"… about two hunters joined in blood. You should read it sometime."

He flicks through a few of the pages.

"It's quite amusing actually. Your pure side fighting the evil seed planted in you as a baby and Dean's evil side being suppressed by the one bit of goodness in his life … you. The only way to snuff out that little flame of goodness still flickering in his dark soul is to kill the source."

"NO!"

His words trigger a memory … a memory that doesn't feel real and yet I know for certain I've had a conversation with this bastard before …

"_Fear Dean … fear of loss and the accompanying deep despair. It's soul destroying … and that's what I want from you and Sam."_

"_Please … I made a deal, I'll stick with it, do whatever you want with me … just promise … promise that you won't hurt my brother!"_

"_Oh I won't hurt him just yet Dean … but you definitely will …"_

I move forward but instantly Sam and I are thrown in opposite directions, slamming into trees on opposite ends of the crossroad, and held there by an invisible force. I cough. God I hate demons. I try to push against the bonds holding me, as the meaning of his words hit home, but I can't move. My eyes flicker from Sammy's straining face to the Hunter who is smirking at me as he moves forward to push his index finger into my chest.

"Ironic don't you think. The protection amulet that Sam gave you to guard you against evil, and all this time it was keeping the evil within you at bay. Your amulet … it doesn't protect you from evil Dean … it prevents the evil from manifesting in you."

Sammy grunts as he tries to break free of the force holding him in place.

"Don't listen to him Dean … you could never be evil … I don't care what he says … you have the purest soul I know … "

The Hunter laughs, it's a sickening sound.

"That's partly true, cause the reason we've never been able to defeat you boys is that you find strength in each other. The lich … she saw it in you too … she saw the pureness."

"The Lich? What the hell's he talking about Sam?"

He looks over at me guiltily … what the hell has he been hiding from me …

"You're the link Sam. You're the one who keeps him centered … together you make an unstoppable team … apart I'll be able to manipulate him. He only has good in him, because of you Sam. It's his love for his family that has been the thing holding him back from his true potential. But with you out of the picture … he'll eventually give up … he'll move over, he'll join the minions of hell. And besides which, we have his contract."

Lilith waves the piece of paper at me, smiling evilly.

"There's only one person going to hell today lady … and that's you!"

Thank god … it's Bobby and Ellen. They step out onto the road, guns aimed at the demons before us.

"Oh now you see … this is why I wanted to be here early … you boys just aren't playing fair!"

In an instant all hell breaks loose. The pressure holding me and Sam disappears. Sam rushes forward, diving behind the Impala as Bobby and Ellen take cover behind the piece of crap Ford. A demon blocks my path, so I swing up with my arm, only managing to push him back slightly before one of Bobby's 'rock salt' shots hits it in the chest.

It looks like Sammy had the same idea as me because the trunk is open. My arm goes in and my shotgun comes out. Every tendon in my legs hurt with the force of crouching against the chrome bumper, the license plate square against my back. Sammy moves in next to me as I look over at Ellen and Bobby.

"What took you guys so long?"

Bobby's middle finger extends just before he takes another shot and I chuckle. Adrenalin's pumping through my veins with familiarity as I push away … my eyes instantly finding a line of fire as I start shooting at the dark shadows advancing on us.

I swing back, reloading with trained ease before I swivel around on one foot and fire 3 consecutive shots. I hit an arm, a leg and a solid blow to a chest. The demons just phase in and out, regrouping but still continuing with the advance. I watch in horror as Ellen goes flying to land hard against tree. She doesn't move and my heart leaps to my throat. Anger makes me brave and in a flourish I reach for the Remington with my left hand, the pump-action recoil hitting one of those sons of bitches just as it comes around the bumper end of the Impala. I don't get a second chance because in that half a second I'm suddenly prone. God, how did they surround me so fast?

Sammy and Bobby are caught up in their own fights as I try to hit and block my attackers. I pull out the hidden demon blade sheathed on my belt but it's too late. They hold my hands, pulling the weapon from my grasp. Oh crap. Fear suddenly seizes me as one of them holds me down, ripping open my shirt. He smirks down at the tattoo on my chest, taking the blade and cutting across the protection symbol. I cry out in agony … I can hear Sammy shouting my name, but he can't reach me. One of the demons manages to force my mouth open as I struggle. Shit, I need to get out of here. I watch as the other demon flashes into dark smoke and just as quickly pushes its way down my throat. I barely have time to gag before I lose consciousness.

When my eyes open again, it's against my will. I fight and thrash about … yelling for all I'm worth … but nothing happens. I don't have control of my body … I think things have just gone South in a very huge way. The demon stands and I find myself looking out of the blackness which are my eyes. Oh shit … this is so bad. I need to take control … god only knows what this thing possessing me is up to. Now I know how Sammy felt, but this demon isn't blocking my memory, it wants me to see what's happening. Dread fills me at the thought.

It looks around … Bobby is pinned up against a tree, Ellen is still unconscious … I silently pray not dead ... and Sammy is swiping futilely at a group of demons who have surrounded him. Looks like the old Winchester luck is still holding out for the long haul.

The demon walks up to Sammy … who stupidly stares at me, before realizing that's it not me, as my hand wraps around his neck and I lift him off his feet.

Please don't hurt him. I feel sick … the demon knows what I'm thinking … but he just laughs as Sammy squirms, choking in his hold.

"Let him go."

The demon turns to look at Lilith and then drops Sam like a bag of potatoes. Sammy rolls over coughing, clutching at his throat as he tries to catch his breath.

She comes to stand in front of me, looking into my eyes.

"Dean? You in there? How does it feel to be one of us?"

If I could throw up, I would.

"Well enjoy the show kiddo … because you've got front row seats to watch your brother die … and the best part is … you're going to kill him."

She chuckles as she moves away, the Hunter walking over to stand next to her … but my heart nearly stops … in fact it would if I had any control over it … as I see Ruby standing next to the both of them. I can't read her expression … and I have the sudden uncontrollable need to shout at Sammy and say "TOLD YOU SO" … but instead I find myself lifting him up as if he weighs nothing, and tossing him with ease before he lands with a sickening thud a few yards away. Oh god … please … just give me a few seconds … just enough time to take control of my body, reach for the demon blade just inches away, and let me kill myself before I kill my brother.

The hunter walks up to me, pushing something into my hand. The demon inside me looks down and smirks … it's the Colt. The Hunter leans in to whisper in my ear.

"Little purchase I made from your friend Bella."

Rage flares up in me again … but it's immediately replaced by dread as the demon stalks over to Sammy, who's still lying prone. He's trying to push himself up, blood pouring from a gash on his forehead. Oh god … this thing inside me is going to kill Sammy … it's going to make me watch him take his last breath. I fight as he pulls Sammy to his feet … I fight as he lifts the Colt to aim it at my brothers chest … and all the fighting instantly and unexpectedly gives me strength I never knew I possessed. I don't know how I did it, but I've managed to fight my way to control. It hurts. A piercing pain shooting from my eyes to my brain … but I'm in control, I just don't know for how long. I can barely move but I manage to lift my hands just enough to push the Colt into Sam's palm, he's confused expression settling on my face, on my eyes … and he realizes … he can see it's me. I force the words painfully past my lips … I need to hurry …

"Shoot me!"

"Dean … I can't."

"Sam, for the love of god … just shoot me … you have to!"

"I can't do it Dean … I can't lose you!"

"Sammy … please, I can't hold on for much longer!"

The demon is tearing at me from the inside, fighting his way forward for control. I stagger back, pain radiating from every nerve. I look up, pleading … but Sam just starts backing away, holding the colt at his side, keeping his eyes on me. He knows what's going to happen … he promised he would fight … but still he'd rather die than kill me. I sob as I'm finally pushed back, unable to hold on any longer. The demon looks at Sam, and I watch in amazement as a strange light appears … a beautiful glowing light just behind him. But then I feel my arm moving up, the Hunter pushing a gun in to my hands, and I'm leveling it on my brother. Once again I fight and yell and scream … but I can't seem to take back the control of my body. Panic settles in … please god … please … don't let me kill Sammy.

The light behind Sam almost envelopes him, but he doesn't seem to see it. He just watches me, his eyes pleading.

"Dean, you can fight this … you're stronger than them … just take control."

Run Sammy … for the love of god RUN!

Sammy must be using the force again because he turns and runs over to the discarded shotgun a few feet away. He grabs it, but he still doesn't take aim, he knows using the Colt will kill me and he's probably still hoping to talk his way out of this. I feel my finger squeezing … and I can't even close my eyes. The bastard wants me to watch, wants me to see what I'm about to do. I yell … my hoarse screams echoing inside my head as the demon possessing my body finally pulls the trigger.

My voice is instantly released from the strangling hold.

"SAMMMMMMY!"

I watch in horror as the bullet impacts his body and he flies back, landing in the dirt … unmoving.

Fury like I've never known burst out of every inch of my being. I can almost sense the surprise of the demon inside me as I fight and finally, too damn late, take control of my body again. Rage fuels my strength, my eyes blazing red as I turn on the demons surrounding me.

I watch out of the corner of my eye as the hold on Bobby is released. He collapses to the floor, but immediately rushes over to Ellen. My focus returns to the demons, they all look shocked … good … they wanted a bad ass … they found themselves one.

I swing and swipe and rip at the demons attacking me … the shrill sounds of destruction following them as I tear them limb from limb. I see the Hunter moving away, watching me but quickly scanning the book in his hands at the same time, like he's missed an important chapter. There's a dark scowl on his face as he rips pages from the book, the pages igniting his hand and burning to dust, before he throws the remnants of the book in the dirt. My focus is on Lilith. She tries to fight, but I'm stronger … and she's suddenly scared. My hand clamps around her neck as I lift her into the air.

She screams in terror … she knows I'm going to kill her … but maybe I'll have some fun first. I don't know what I was worried about … I feel good … I feel better than good. I'm flooded with a sense of power, hate replacing every other emotion. It's so much easier just having one feeling, one purpose. Hate. Lilith is still dangling in the air as I grin, turning around, and coming eye to eye with Ruby. Ruby … now she's a hot looking demon … maybe we should hook up. But before I can say the words there's a sudden sharp pain in my chest. I look down in confusion. My hold on Lilith weakens as she wriggles free and disappears instantly into the darkness. Guess she couldn't handle the heat. I see Ruby's hand covered in blood, strange … I look at the knife pushed to the hilt … embedded in my chest. I can feel the demon that was possessing me die. It's Ruby's demon blade, the bitch just stabbed me. My body starts shaking as little bursts of electrical current run through every cell in my body. I gasp as the knife twists … reality and pain slowly returning. The demon is gone, I can feel it and with it goes the confidence and power … it's just me now, the anger replaced with pain. I smile relieved before I cough … the taste of copper filling my mouth as blood drips from my lips.

"I'm sorry Dean … I didn't have any choice."

She pulls the blade out and I fall to my knees, my hand automatically going to the wound as blood pours down my chest to drip onto the dirt. I watch it with morbid fascination.

"NO! DEAN!"

Sammy? I look up … he's limping towards me, his hand over his chest … but there's no blood. It's a miracle. I grin at him for a second before more pain wipes it away.

"Ruby?"

He looks at her in disbelief.

"I did what I had to … I'm sorry Sam."

With that she also disappears into the blackness. Sammy quickly kneels in front of me, his hands keeping me up. I don't feel too good.

"I'll kill her, so help me … I'm going to kill her ..."

He's whispering, talking to himself as he moves the material of my shirt away to get a better look at the wound. By the intake of his breath, it's not good. I can't stay up, so I slump forward into his arms.

"Bobby! He's hurt bad … god … we need to get him … um … hospital, we have to …"

I take in the smell of Sam … he smells like shampoo … that herbal shit he uses, masked with the smell of earth, and sweat and blood …

"You're … alive …"

I'm mumbling into his shoulder, trying to breathe … but the relief is incredible.

"Yeah …" he holds me up again, "… you saved me Dean … the amulet … it deflected the bullet … but I think I've broken a few ribs."

He chuckles as he shows me the amulet … it looks a bit worse for wear, but there's hardly a scratch on it. Not for the first time I wonder what the hell the thing is made of, but pain suddenly assaults my body again.

"Sammy … I can't breathe … I can't …"

"It's okay Dean, take it easy … I've got you, I've got you … you're going to be okay!"

He maneuvers behind me, grunting slightly in discomfort while settling me into his embrace, letting my head rest in the crook of his arm.

"H..hurts …"

I swallow as blood gurgles out of my mouth, to run down my chin. Sammy wipes at it ineffectively, his tears are falling onto my face as I blink up at him.

"I know … but just hang in there okay, we're going to get you help … you just need to hold on."

"Did we … win?"

He chuckles softly ...

"Don't think so dude … but we're okay for now … you're okay … just hang on …"

Blood is still pouring from the wound as he presses down on my chest. I groan, grinding my teeth, looking down to watch as the redness seeps uncontrollably between Sammy's fingers. Ellen's face suddenly pops into view. She smiles down at me, her lips trembling and her pupils look a bit uneven, she's probably got a concussion. I almost chuckle when I find myself cataloguing everyone's injuries except my own.

"He's losing too much blood Ellen … he's not going to make it to the hospital unless we can stop it."

She nods her head. Sam looks at me worriedly … he seems to be making up his mind.

"Dean … this is going to hurt …"

He's not shitting me. I can feel as he pushes two of his fingers into the hole in my chest. I try to arch up as I scream, but hands are holding me down.

"I'm sorry … I'm sorry …"

Sammy's sobs those words over and over as I try to fight through the agony wracking my body. God … I think I'm dying …

"Sammy …"

I shudder in his arms and he holds me closer.

"It's okay Dean … you're going to be okay …"

I think he's saying it more to assure himself. I can feel his fingers plugging the hole, but his blood sleek hand is steady, stopping the bleeding … and I battle to fight the nausea that's threatening to overwhelm me. I don't think I could handle the pain of throwing up right now. I look up at Sammy again, tears running down my face … and that's when I see it … the light that was surrounding him earlier is appearing just behind him.

"Sammy … do you see it? It's beautiful!"

"Please Dean … please just stay with me … just keep looking at me …"

His lips tremble as he continues to look down at me, love radiating from his eyes.

"Please don't leave me!"

He's still crying … but my gaze is drawn to the light. I watch in awe as it moves closer. Sam's panicked voice breaks through to me, so I turn my head to look at him again … I'm suddenly so tired …

"Dean … Dean … stay with me …"

Ellen is kneeling next to us again with a first aid kit. She taps my arm, injecting me with something.

My voice is so soft, I'm not sure if Sammy can hear me, "I don't … want to leave you …"

My breath hitches again as Sammy slowly rocks me in his arms.

"You won't leave me … you're here … you're going to be okay …"

The light is radiating a gentle warmth and suddenly the unbearable pain leaves my body … the light is so close, if I reach up I can touch it.

"Do you see them Sammy, they're beautiful … you were right, there are angels."

He shakes me hard, pain lancing up my chest again as I try to catch my breath … his voice harsh.

"NO DEAN! You look at me, look into my eyes, it's just you and me, it's always just been you and me."

I watch as the light takes form and a happy sigh of surprise passes my lips … when I see dad standing over us.

"It's … dad …"

God … I want Sammy to see him … he looks beautiful, surrounded by that amazing light … a tear runs down my cheek.

"Dean … don't you leave me, not like this …"

There's a strange desperation in Sammy's voice and I watch as dad's hand comes down to rest on his shoulder. Sam inhales sharply, blinking and then looking up. He can also see dad, apparently so can Ellen and Bobby because they're just staring in disbelief. I can see it on their faces … they see what I see. Sammy's voice breaks.

"Dad …?"

"Yes son … it's me …"

Dad's words almost sound musical but Sam just holds onto me tighter.

"You can't have him … I'm not letting him go with you …"

There's a gentle smile on his face but the look in his eyes is one of sadness, "I haven't come to fetch your brother Sam … but he has to go, you have to let him go … there's no way to break his deal."

I let those words sink in, but strangely I don't feel scared. The light surrounding us is enveloping me in a sense of peace.

'No! … No! … NO!"

Sammy is sobbing uncontrollably, I can almost feel his heart breaking … and I'd do anything to take that pain away … but dad reaches down for me, and I watch as my own hand reaches up for his.

"Please no … Dean … you can't leave me!"

I feel the white light pulling me up and suddenly I'm standing, looking down at Sammy and my dying body resting in his arms.

"NO! Please god … no …"

He can see me … Sammy can see me … so I smile. I know what's expected of me, and I know he did his best to try and save me from this … so in a last ditch effort to ease his heartbreak I reach down and cup his face … looking him in the eyes …

"It's okay Sam … I'm going to be okay … just remember … I love you … bitch."

My voice sounds strange even to my own ears. I stand up again … I don't know how I'm going to do this … I don't know if I'm strong enough …

Dad leans down to whisper something into Sammy's ear before turning to me. I don't want to go … I want to stay here with my baby bro … but I step back anyway, closing my eyes for a brief second before I follow dad. He stops just before the gate … the Hunter still watching us assessingly as he and dad exchange glares. These two have a history … but at the moment I just don't give a damn. Dad puts his hand on my shoulder …

"Dean … I can't go with you son … I'd do anything to save you from this … but just hold onto one thing … it's all you have to remember … have faith."

I look at him in confusion.

"Listen to me Dean … remember … have faith!"

He steps away from me again and it takes everything I have not to rush forward and cling to him for dear life.

"I love you son."

"I love you too dad."

The light starts fading and with it comes fear. I watch for a few seconds more, trying to hold onto that little bit of comfort … and then the light flickers, disappearing along with dad. I've never felt so alone in my whole life. I look up at the demon, a group of hellhounds standing next to him. They don't move forward, I was almost expecting them to drag me into hell, but their yellow eyes just watch me. I think the Hunter is keeping them at bay. He nods his head towards the gate. Flames suddenly burst to life along the metal as it swings open into blackness. I move forward, turning to look back over my shoulder one last time. Sam's eyes locking with mine for the briefest second, relaying all the pain, regret and love he feels in that one look. I wish he didn't have to see this. I try to smile as I see my name on his trembling lips, his heartbroken sobs following me as I turn … walking as steadily as I can … back straight, shoulders back. _Have faith Dean._ I won't give these bastards the satisfaction of knowing how terrified I am at this moment … so I put on my patented smirk, winking as I march past the Hunter, walking through the gates of hell … and into oblivion.

_**TBC**_


	7. Chapter 5

**Notes:** Okay, I'm useless to the world right now ... Kripke has broken me … so have Jensen and Jared and Jim with their amazing performances ... I'll probably only be my cheery self again when Season 4 starts ... and because I just cannot leave my story on an evil cliffie after the best season finale ever ... here goes ...

My version of the Season 4 premiere ... AU obviously LOL ;0)

Thanks as always to my wonderful beta Phoebe who's soothing my broken soul with her words of encouragement and allowing me to pamper her story 'Canaveral' ... all errors are still mine ;0)

Warning: Mild Language

* * *

**Chapter 5**

"Faith"

**Sammy's POV**

He's gone.

An agonising sob rips through my body again.

I watched as my brother, the one person I love the most in the world, walked through those fiery gates and disappeared. When he turned for that one brief moment to look back at me, his eyes full of reassurances, still trying to protect me one last time ... I almost got up and ran after him ... I would have ... I would have grabbed onto him and never let go, gone into hell with him ... but his dying body is still lying in my arms and dad's whispered words keep repeating in my head ...

I look down at the face that I know better than my own. His eyes are open ... green glassy orbs staring back at me, but they're dead eyes and I watch heartbroken as more of my tears splash onto his still, pale face. I can feel each beat strumming faintly against my fingertips, where my fingers block the gaping wound over his heart. I think my fingers are actually touching his heart, and normally the thought would make me sick, but now ... now it's the only evidence I have that Deans body is still alive ... just barely.

I want him back, please god ... I just want my brother back. My voice is soft and broken.

"… come back Dean … please …"

I rock him slowly in my embrace, crying and shaking ... I'm lost ... I don't know what to do ... Dean, tell me what to do.

My throat aches with unbearable grief... he's gone ... and I want to go with him ... I didn't save him ... I was too late ...

"Sam?"

It takes me a minute before I realise that someone is calling me ... I look up dazed into soft, concerned features ...

"Ellen ... Dean's gone ..."

My voice breaks. She's kneeling in front of me, her hand resting tentatively on my shoulder.

"I know honey ... I'm so sorry ..."

"He left me Ellen ... he left me ... but I want him back ..."

I watch as Bobby kneels down next to Ellen, his face full of the pain I feel. I blink at him through my tears. He's holding the discarded and damaged old book in his hands … what did the Hunter call it? The prophecy? … god I'm sick to death of all the damn 'what if's' and 'maybe's' that have been following us around … 'what if I turn darkside' … 'maybe we'll save the world' … none of it matters … nothing matters anymore …

"Sam ... son ... you need to tell us what to do ... what do you need us to do?"

I look at him blankly for a second ... then understanding dawns on me ... he's asking if we should even bother to try and save Dean's body … wanting me to make the decision ... we all know his soul is gone, and I start shaking again ...

I can't think straight, I didn't have a plan for this ... I need help ... dad ... I remember him leaning down to whisper in my ear ... _"Save your brother Sammy ... only you can do it ... it's not his time ..."_

"I need to save him Bobby ..."

"Okay kiddo, then let's get moving ..."

The relief at hearing Bobby actually say those words, the comfort it brings me and the hope that maybe I can still do something, it gives me the strength I need. I block out all thoughts ... just one mission, one purpose, one job ... I need to save Dean.

I watch numbly as Bobby leaves to fetch his pick-up which he parked further down the road behind some trees. They hid it so that they could sneak up on Lilith and her posse, much good it did. They're all gone now, there's hardly any evidence that they were even here, except for the smell. He reverses until he's parked just in front of us. Ellen helps him lay down some blankets in the back while I look down at Dean's ashen face. He takes another shallow, shuddering breath, his body shaking ever so slightly in my arms and his glazed eyes still staring straight through me. No sparkle of mischief, not even a hint of pain … just … lifeless. I bite my trembling bottom lip, using my free hand to gently close his eyelids. I can't bear to look into those vacant eyes. I can feel his weakening heart moving against my fingertips, thumping slowly where my fingers push against the bleeding wound ... god, there's so much blood …

"Fight Dean ... just keep fighting ... I'll save you ... I promise ..."

I'll die trying. Bobby quickly moves the Impala and Ford off the road behind some bushes, before he and Ellen are kneeling in front of me again.

"Okay Sam, we need to lift him up and lay him down in the back of the truck. Try and keep your hand steady ... once you're both settled, Ellen will get in and help you. ... hospital is just a few miles away ..."

I nod in understanding. A few miles can be a lifetime, especially with my brother's life quite literally in my hands right now but I have no doubt that Bobby is going to break some serious traffic offences to get us there. They manoeuvre around us, Ellen taking Deans legs, Bobby gently lifting Dean under the arms, while I carefully shift out from under him, keeping my hand firm but steady and using my free arm to cradle Dean's back.

"On three ... one, two ... three."

We all heave Dean up. I wince slightly as I feel something moving in my own chest but I ignore the burst of pain. I keep Dean's body straight and carefully move over to the back of the truck. We lay him down gently on the blankets, the first aid kit waiting open in the corner as I position myself behind him, lifting him slightly and letting his head rest on my thigh. I'm covered in blood, his blood, and my fingers are cramping slightly but they're still securely plugging the wound in his chest. Ellen climbs in after us as Bobby slams the tailgate shut.

He leans over to squeeze Dean's shoulder before he looks up at me with determination shimmering in his moist eyes.

"Okay Sam ... hold tight ..."

I nod again ... I can't seem to talk ... words are just too painful. Ellen pulls a blanket over Dean, and then secures one around my shoulders before she starts checking Dean's vitals and dressing the cut across his chest. Dean gasps then coughs, a wet gurgling sound as blood starts dribbling down his chin. I carefully tilt his head back to help him breathe, wiping absently at the red streak, only managing to smudge it. He doesn't make another sound**.** I know he can't feel anything, he's not here anymore. I whimper, unable to hold back my despair. His breath is so faint I can hardly see his chest rise and fall and fear grips my heart again. I stare at his smooth, pale features, he looks oddly peaceful, and I quickly block the thought of the torment his soul must be going through right now. Instead I watch as Ellen presses a dressing over the cut, distractedly wondering if they'll be able to repair the tattoo as I let my hand run lovingly through his short hair. Please don't let this be the last time. He's still alive, I just need to hold onto that ... his body is still alive.

Bobby drives painfully slowly, trying not to jar us in the back, before he gets us onto the main road, and then suddenly the truck roars to life as he steps on the gas. The cool morning breeze whips around us and I pull the blanket up higher, under Dean's chin. The darkness engulfs us like a black shroud, a death shroud, the image sending a shudder through me. Two hours. Just two hours ago Dean and I were hugging, having an 'awkward moment' as Dean would call it. I frown with self loathing ... we still had hope then, thought we could win this thing, but I stuffed everything up ... me ... if I hadn't come out here by myself, if I'd stuck with the plan ... two hours ago I still had my brother ... but everything changed in an instant ... I lost the one good thing in my life. I want to chuckle at the irony ... and cry … and rant ... and scream ...

"Ellen ..."

"Yes Sam."

She's holding Dean's wrist, her finger on his pulse.

"How long do you think a body can survive ... without its soul?"

A sad smile tugs at her lips as she reaches over to squeeze my arm.

"I wish I knew kid, I've ... we've never been in this situation before."

I nod my head. This is new territory for all of us. I need to find a way to bring Dean back ... I don't know how ... but it's all on my shoulders, my responsibility, my fault ... and I won't, I can't let Dean down ... never again ... I squeeze my eyes shut. Dean's in hell and I find myself holding him tighter. Images of torture and hellfire from books and paintings flashing through my mind ... I can't think about that now ... my grip on sanity is fragile to say the least. I'm on the precipice of endless madness, a pit I'll fall into if I don't bring my brother back. I've lived without him before, for three long and empty months. I can't live that life again ... I'd rather die.

I stare out at the road, watching the white line fade into the darkness behind us, my vision blurred. His body is clinging onto life, he's still fighting ... but how am I going to bring him back? How am I supposed to save him when I couldn't even do it right the first time round? A flutter against my fingers draws my attention back to Dean's face. I'm starting to think it was my imagination when it happens again, his weak breath stopping and starting sporadically. Oh god ...

"Ellen ... something's wrong ..."

"What? What is it Sam?"

"I don't know, it's ... I can feel his heart ... it feels like it's fluttering ... almost shuddering in his chest ... and his not breathing properly ..."

"Shit!"

I look at her in shock ...

"What? What's happening?"

She immediately kneels over Dean, feeling for a pulse in his neck, and putting her ear near his mouth. His lips are taking on a horrible blue tinge and I shake my head in denial ...

"Shit!"

I jump as she suddenly hits the back window behind Bobby who swerves slightly. She has to shout above the noise of the engine.

"Bobby ... we've got a problem ... how long till we get there?"

He yells back ...

"Ten ... maybe fifteen minutes ... why? What's wrong?"

"Dean's going into cardiac arrest ... he's stopped breathing ... so make it five ..."

The truck revs and suddenly we're hurtling way over the speed limit. I look at Ellen in shock as the truth of her words sink in, Dean's body suddenly shaking violently in my arms and then instantly going still. I look down at him in confusion.

"What? No ... NO ... he's okay ... he's going to be okay ..."

She grabs my face in her hands.

"Sam, listen to me, I know this is hard ... I need you to pull yourself together, your brother needs you ... I need you ..."

I know she's right ... I just can't lose him now … again … not when there's even the remotest chance that I might …

"... what do you need me to do?"

"I'm going to start chest compressions ... just keep maintaining the pressure on the wound."

I know the drill ... Ellen puts her hands flat on Dean's chest and begins the fast compressions. I count them off in my head, before leaning forward awkwardly and covering Dean's mouth with my own as I breathe for him. My own chest wrenches, bone jarring bone ... and I can taste copper in my mouth ... but I'm not sure if it's my own blood or Deans. All I know is that I just have to breathe for my brother, not caring about anything else as Ellen and I continue CPR.

"Come on Dean."

Ellen's plaintive demand adding to the surreal sensation that envelopes me as I feel Dean's heart move beneath my fingers, feeling each forceful compression. And finally, after what feels like a lifetime, I smile tiredly when the weak but steady rhythm returns, knowing he's back before Ellen says ...

"Sam, he's back ..."

I sigh shallowly with relief, my head falling back as Bobby calls to us that he can see the hospital just up ahead. Minutes later we're slamming on breaks in front of the emergency entrance, Bobby jumping out of the cab and yelling for nurses and doctors and anyone else with a degree to assist us. We're suddenly swarmed by medical personnel. They're shocked to find that my fingers are plugging the deadly wound in my brothers chest, but they tell me to keep my hand still as they move Dean onto a gurney while I try to stand on shaky legs next to him.

They start pushing us towards the entrance while I try to keep up, my hand becoming part of their life saving equipment as they check Dean's pupils and pulse. Ellen thankfully explains how we had to perform CPR a few short minutes ago, telling them how we were mugged as she convincingly gives them our cover story while Bobby goes off to fill in the paperwork, he's listed as our medical guardian. I don't think I could talk right now even if I wanted to. Everything just passes in a blur as I'm moved into the triage area with Dean.

A nurse's face is suddenly up close and personal with mine. She smells like disinfectant.

"Hey son ... what's your name?"

I force the words past my dry lips.

"Um … Sam ..."

She looks at me with concern.

"You okay Sam … you look a bit pale."

"I'm fine."

… god lady just get away from me … I need to concentrate on my brother right now. She writes something on a clipboard, thankfully leaving me alone as my eyes are drawn to the nurses and doctors standing next to me, surrounding Dean's gurney. They're cutting off his clothing, exposing his battered body to my eyes. He's covered in bruises ... the deep gouge still bleeding sluggishly, running horizontally across his tattoo. They carefully cut the material around my fingers where they disappear deep into his chest and I get a good first look at the wound that is killing my brother. The wound that Ruby gave him. I thought she was on our side, but Dean was right ... he's always right. I swallow hard. My eyes drift to the dark, dry blood covering his chest in stark contrast to his pasty skin.

I watch as they bend his head back and insert a tube down his throat to intubate him. He gags slightly as they open his airway, before they rhythmically start pumping oxygen into his lungs. Leads and wires and monitors are quickly connected to his chest to get read outs and stats … everyone talking over each other … I listen to them in dazed confusion.

"Okay, what have we got?"

"Male, late 20's, unconscious on arrival, stab wound to the chest, from the amount of blood loss, guessing an arterial rupture to or near the heart. His pupils are unresponsive, blood pressure 60 over 45, pulse 130 and thready, CPR on route … this here is Sam, he probably just saved his brothers life by stopping the bleed."

"Nice work son …"

I can only nod as the doctor carefully probes the area of Dean's chest around my fingers. I instantly feel sick.

"Okay, we need to get him down to x-rays and book an OR immediately."

The doctor looks at me worriedly.

"You're doing a great job Sam … are you okay … do you think you can keep your hand steady for a while longer?"

"Yeah …"

"You not going to faint on us are you?"

I probably look as pale as Dean, but my voice is surprisingly steady.

"No."

"That's good … you're doing good."

He turns around and rattles off some information to the medical staff surrounding us.

"Okay looks like we have a tension pneumothorax plus we've got decreased breath sounds on the affected side. We need to immediately decompress with a needle thoracostomy in the second interocostal space, midclavicular line."

I look at him stupidly for a second ... I didn't catch any of that ...

"Sam, I know you're shaken up, but I need you to understand … your fingers are pressing against the ruptured artery … we can't move your hand just yet cause your brother will bleed out … we need to get him into surgery and try and stop the bleeding there and get his blood pressure up, but I need to know from you … can you handle it … cause I'd like you to keep the pressure on it for now, like you've been doing …"

"Yes …"

It's all I can get out ... I'll do anything …whatever it takes ...

The doctor looks me in the eye, he still doesn't seem too convinced.

"Sam … you have to understand what I'm asking. I want you to come with us to x-rays and surgery … if you can't do it, you have to let us know now … we can't have you passing out from shock, you won't be helping us if you do."

I nod my head in understanding.

"If you don't feel up to it, it's okay, we'll just make another plan … but like I always say, don't mess with a good thing. You've got the bleeding under control, your brother is fairly stable … but it's up to you son … are you sure you can handle this?"

I nod my head again, I've seen enough blood and gore, probably more then the doctor has seen in his entire career, I can handle _this_ … even if _this_ is different, even if _this_ is Dean. My eyes presumably show my determination because the doctor eventually smiles, a look of admiration on his face.

"Good … let's get moving people."

I watch as the buzz of activity around us doubles, amazed at how efficient everyone is as I try to focus on them rattling off instructions.

"Run an open line of IV saline and give him 2 pints of AB neg."

"Blood pressure weak but stable, give him 0.5mg of Lanoxin IV push."

They start moving the gurney out into the hall again, walking us quickly through the ER. I see Ellen and Bobby out of the corner of my eye. Bobby looks at me worriedly but immediately understands what's happening, reading my expression, he smiles tentatively and nods his encouragement. I smile back weakly before we move into the lift and the doors close behind us.

I force my emotions aside, just running on instinct. I feel the way I did when I thought I'd lost Dean after the Trickster incident. Running on pure instinct is what got me through those months, it's what will get me through the next few hours. The x-rays are mercifully quick, giving the surgeons an idea of the damage and how to repair it. They also do a quick ultrasound around the cardiac area, apparently it's showing blood around the heart but not the abdomen. I can hear them discussing Dean's case as we move through to the OR while a nurse starts preparing Dean for surgery and another one helps me clean up. For the moment Dean and I are inseparably joined. He'd probably make fun of me, I can just imagine what names he'd come up with ... calling me a "useless appendage" would more than likely top the bill ... I smile sadly.

The nurse can't do anything about my bloodied clothing, but she removes my shoes and covers my feet with those plastic sock things. I force a smile as she helps me put on a surgical gown through my free arm, biting back a groan as she ties it loosely around my chest, my ribs are still aching, I'm almost certainly a pallet of bruises. My fingers haven't moved from my brother's chest though, and I'm keeping the pressure steady … the knowledge that this small action is the only thing keeping Dean's body alive, keeps me centred and focussed on my task. She wipes my arms and my hands with an antiseptic cloth. Finally finishing off the sickening green apparel with a surgical cap and mask. I look like all the other doctors milling into the room. Dean would laugh again if he could see me now. I find myself trying to remember his laugh, god, is it possible, could I forget something like that? I close my eyes and picture his face, picture him laughing, and I can almost hear it, but it already feels like a distant memory. I swallow hard. I'm not going to break down, I can't give up ... this is saving Dean … I'm saving Dean … if I don't ... then there will be nothing worth saving of me.

They carefully move me to Dean's left side, positioning me near his shoulder. A nurse pushes a high chair under me and I gratefully sit down. I don't know how much longer I could have stood on my own steam, my knees feel weak already. The anaesthesiologist looks at me, smiling kindly behind her mask.

"Sam, can I call you Sam?"

I nod.

"Okay ... if you want, you can help me, we need to monitor your brother's blood oxygen levels, so if you keep your eyes on these readings then the doctors will just work around us. Okay?"

I nod again ... she's trying to keep me distracted from what's about to happen. They're about to operate on my brother ... they're going to try and save his life. The doctor from the ER, Dr Howard, checks on me one last time, making sure that I'm still focused. He seems happy enough with my responses and I find myself suddenly listening to all the unfamiliar sounds and orders being passed around as they start the procedure. I don't watch, but I know when they do the first incision, my eyes focused on Dean's face, tubes and wires running in and out of him. I watch the drip of the IV line, and when I feel my eyes getting tired I turn my attention back to Dean's face, rubbing soothing lines across his brow. I'm surprised to find that I've been watching the ventilator rise and fall as it pushes air into his lungs, for the past 10 minutes. I don't have any sense of time ... seconds flow into minutes, minutes into hours.

"Clamp."

... I need you Dean ... please you need to fight ... okay ...

"Suction."

... I don't want to live in this world without you ...

"Sam?"

... please come back to me ... I just want you back ...

"Sam?"

I look up.

"You with me Sam? This is it son ... I want you to slowly remove your hand."

I don't think I can, my hand is locked in position, but the nurse next to me thankfully takes my wrist and helps guide my fingertips slowly out of Dean's chest. Blood instantly bubbles from the deep wound, the suctioning sound making me ill.

"Okay ... we've got it ... we've got it ..."

I'm looking at Dean's chest for the first time since the surgery started. They have the one side of his chest open, clamps and tubes running into the cavity. I fight the urge to hurl, the sudden frantic beeping from the machinery ripping away the last of my hope as I climb off the chair unsteadily.

"Blood pressure is dropping."

... no ... no ...

"Come on Dean … just hang in there for a few more minutes kiddo …"

I take a step back.

"Doctor, blood pressure and ox levels have just dropped through the floor, he's crashing …"

I watch in horror as the doctor sticks his whole hand into Dean's chest, starting an internal cardiac massage. He's firmly massaging Dean's heart with his hand, he's heartbeat flatlining on one of the numerous monitors.

"No … please …"

Dean? He's leaving me again ... no ... he's already gone ... NO ...

I take another step back, pulling off the awkward gown and letting it drop to the floor as I begin wiping my hands on my jeans, before looking down incomprehensibly at the fresh blood streaks I've left behind. My hands ... they're covered in Dean's blood. I stumble until my back hits the wall, staring at my fingers as if they belong to someone else, but the beat of Dean's heart is still ghosting along my fingertips. They were in his chest.

I look up, one of the surgeons barks orders that they need to shock him, applying paddles directly to his heart, first at 150 Joules and when his heart doesn't respond, again at 200 Joules.

I watch in stunned silence as they fight to save him …

I slide down the wall as my knees give way, sitting on the cold floor just staring at all the blood covering me. Every precious drop ... so much on my clothes, on my skin ... its Dean's ... I start rubbing at it, my movements suddenly becoming frantic. I find that I can't breathe, my chest hurts ... I hurt ... Dean? I look up ... tears obscuring my vision.

"Okay, let get some arterial and venous lines inserted through the right femoral artery and vein."

The doctor is still massaging Dean's heart, but he looks up for a brief instant and sees me, he's eyes immediately filled with concern, god … I don't want to be a liability, they need to keep all their focus on Dean … I try to push myself up, but my body is shaking so badly, I just slump down again.

"Someone ... check on Sam please! Sam, buddy you okay over there?"

I try to nod but my vision is swimming … I listen as they shock Dean's heart again … the shrill sound of the monitors still filling the room … he's dying, he's not going to make it … I sob … my chest instantly burning again and I cough, watching the blood spatter from my mouth and over my ruined clothing. I hurt … god I'm losing him … that hurts so much more. A nurse's face is instantly in front of mine, she lifts my head and yells back orders to someone else. She asks me something … I can't understand … I don't care … Dean's dying …

"Sam … are you in pain?"

Yes damnit … my brother dying is more painful then you'll ever know …

"Sam … come on, focus on me, where are you hurt?"

Hands are all over me, people trying to lift me up or lay me down, I'm not sure anymore. I try to push them away ... they need to help Dean damnit. I can hear the doctor shouting more orders from across the room … I'm sorry ... I don't want to be in the way ...

"SAM! For god sake Judy … is he okay, the kids as white as a sheet … is he bleeding?"

"Sam ... look at me, you with us? Sam?"

Blurred, everything's blurred ... I want to throw up ... but Dean's dying ... save him, leave me ... please just save him ...

As my eyes roll back, Dean's name is the last thing on my lips as I slip into the welcoming blackness.

_**TBC**_


	8. Chapter 6

**Notes:** Thanks guys for the fantabulously awesome reviews and alerts … they keep me going and I appreciate all of your wonderful comments!! Thanks also to my amazing beta Phoebe and her keen eyes ... all errors are mine ;0) – This was a tough chapter to write … trying to imagine hell through Dean's eyes _(and I snuck in a bit of Kripke LOL)_ ... plus I'm setting him up for a future chapter … cause I'm evil that way - _'grins evilly' ;0)_ - Next POV will be from Sam … enjoy!

**Warning:** Mild Language

* * *

**Chapter 6**

"**Welcome to Hell"**

Dean's POV

The dark space that engulfs me as I walk through the blazing gates is thick with negative, oppressing energy. It hits me from all sides and I can feel it vibrating painfully through every inch of my being. It's so dark that I'm blinded, vertigo and claustrophobia playing havoc with my senses while I fight the urge to collapse as an unbearable heaviness settles on my shoulders. But still I move on, feeling myself being pulled into the blackness. I'm trembling uncontrollably now, unable to contain the soul destroying fear that has taken hold of me. I'm being forced into this sightless dark nothingness, all of me just wanting to push back, go back … get away from whatever lies ahead, but I can't. My eyes feel like they're burning with unshed tears and I'm grateful that the Hunter can't see my face but I can feel his presence. Anger radiates off him in waves and I can clearly hear the deep panting of the hellhounds crowding up behind me, their hot breath burning at my heels.

I'm suddenly shoved forward, stumbling and then plunging into nothingness. A scream tears from my throat as I tumble. I can't see, can't grab onto anything and I lose all sense of up or down … falling for what feels like an eternity, until I finally hit something solid …ground … and it hurts?

I cough, tasting blood? Shit, is it possible? … I'm supposed to be dead … why does it feel like I've just broken every bone in my body … I don't have a body …

I start trembling again as I try to push myself up on unsteady, weak arms. I manage to get to my knees, squinting as my eyes try to adjust to the white hot patches of light bursting through the darkness. I'm in what looks like an endless cave of unrelenting, incandescent heat.

"Welcome to the pit kid!"

I look up. The hunter is glaring down at me, his face flickering and jerking, revealing his horrific features. I quickly scramble back, pain lancing up my side. Seeing his true form for the first time, he's the hugest, ugliest mother I've ever laid eyes on. My breathing instantly quickens and I watch in terror as his distorted hand reaches down for me, his eyes burning red. He lifts me up by the neck and slams me into something solid, holding me in place as my feet dangle inches from the floor. I try to breathe, cough … anything … but I can't … all I can do is cling to his deformed hand with both of mine, trying unsuccessfully to loosen his powerful grip while staring into his soul destroying eyes.

"You stupid, stupid bastard! You could have had everything Dean … you could have been the one … the one we've been waiting for, but you're almost completely useless to me right now … a pathetic soul without a body. The only thing I can hope for is that you turn into one of us … and quickly … but from what you've displayed, it looks like you're clinging to every bit of your filthy humanity!"

He shakes me roughly like a rag doll.

"You disappoint me Dean! I wanted you to be at my right hand, you have so much potential. It would have been an easy battle if I had a human, one as powerful as you, with your knowledge and strength, destroying and killing at my command. You would have wiped out every single hunter … every single opposing force … anyone who has every stood in our way."

His eyes turn white with burning fury and I want to scream, run … get the hell away from this evil, but an overwhelming hopelessness engulfs me at the same time knowing this is eternity for me. I fight back a sob. He seems sickened by me and throws me with such force that I skitter along the jagged surface of the ground, sharp bits cutting into my flesh before I slam into what feels like a boulder. I groan at the impact, forcing myself to look up at him, glaring at him with hate.

"I'll never … be … like … you!"

He just shakes his head, turning to leave and I watch as he walks away from me, his words sending a new wave of terror to my heart.

"You can rot here for all I care, I've got better things to do kid … besides, I need to have a word or two with Ruby and Lilith. The bitches messed up my plans almost as badly as you did! But I've set my eyes on a new prize … there may still be some wisdom in old YED's thinking."

YED? … god no …

"You stay away from my brother you son of a bitch!"

I'm going to kill him. I try to stand, anger boiling up inside me but my words are stronger than my actions because my legs instantly buckle and I find myself sliding down to sit heavily, leaning awkwardly against the stone behind me. Everything hurts, I can hardly move. He looks over his shoulder, smiling menacingly.

"There may still be some hope yet for you Dean … just let the anger and hate take control, embrace your true nature … but until then, enjoy your stay."

His heart stopping laugher reverberates as I watch his shady silhouette disappear into the darkness.

I tentatively pull myself up straighter, trying to straighten my back and legs. I ache all over, blood trickling from numerous cuts. I can still taste blood in my mouth so I lean over to the side spitting out the remnants. Before I can stop myself I'm sobbing, painful, hot tears running down my face … in remembrance of who I was, what I had, and what I lost … god I want to go back, I want to see Sammy … I can almost see his face in my minds eye … and I suddenly scream out, letting my voice echo in the emptiness.

My yell reverberates around the huge cavern and it's almost instantly answered by a loud wailing, coming from all sides and I pause in alarm. Listening. Holding my breath. Squinting as I trying to see what's out there … shit … I'm not alone.

I turn to look around, trying to get some bearings and I jolt in shock as I find myself sitting a few feet away from what looks like a corpse …

"You shouldn't make so much noise boy … you'll wake the dead."

My throat tightens up in horror as I look at the body; skin pulled tightly over a thin frame … its mouth moving, voice old and raspy … and then instantly its sunken eyes open to peer at me assessingly. I can't stop the shiver that runs down my spine. I look at the thing that had probably once been a man and I find myself gagging.

I can hear it … him chuckle.

"You're new here, aren't you?"

"Yeah …"

My throat feels raw … my body still shuddering uncontrollably as I wrap my arms tightly around my chest. I feel weak, and lost … what little courage I had is instantly slipping away … dad said I had to have faith … but how can you have faith in a place like this? I look around, my eyes finally adjusting to the strange light, and that's when I see it. At first I thought the ground was covered with dark rocks, but now, looking more closely I see dark figures, things that had once been human like the creature next to me, leaning up against, clinging to or sitting on the stones littering the large floor. I can see them scattered across the large expanse until they disappear out of sight. But none of them are moving, all deathly silent, just staring into space.

"Where are we …?"

He seems to find my question hysterical, and laughs shrilly, which turns into a congested cough as he leans over to catch his breath. He finally calms down to a wheeze as he wipes his bony fingers over his leathery face.

"Where did you think you were? This is hell ... this is damnation …"

I shake my head … it can't be, this is not what I was expecting. We're in a huge grotto, with darkened tunnels running off in every direction. This isn't the hell fires and brimstone that preachers threaten their congregations with, even if it does smell like sulphur.

"This can't be real … where are the demons? Where is the fire?"

"They'll come … they always come … just wait … but the madness … that's what will get you before they do … oh yes … "

He nods his head vigorously, like he's telling me a secret. I look at the remnants of these human souls … some so distorted you can hardly see them for what they were.

"Who are they?"

My voice is soft, voicing my troubled thoughts.

"Lost spirits, broken … like you and I … tormented … always tormented … by memories …"

His face goes blank as he grows silent … he's eyes closing …

"Hey … Hey mister … wake up!"

He starts awake and continues talking, oblivious to his actions.

"… most of them so far gone … even the demons leave them alone … "

They're obviously not the only ones "far gone". I watch him for a minute, his voice trailing off into soft babbling, I try to call him back, I need to ask him questions, but he doesn't seem to hear me anymore. I find myself shaking with cold as the heat from the open pits blasts my face. It doesn't make sense. Hot and cold at the same time, and I hurt so bad? Is this what will become of me? Will I turn into one of these pathetic creatures? A tremor runs down my spine again, that fate would be worse than anything I could imagine … losing myself, who I am … and becoming one of them. My mind goes into overdrive trying to analyze and categorize, and put what I'm seeing into some form of reality …

"This isn't real … this isn't real …"

The old man peers up at me from beneath his bushy eyebrows. He grins … rotten teeth sprinkled haphazardly in his black gums.

"Trust me boy … everything you feel here is as real as anything you've ever known."

"Who are you?"

"I'm …"

His tight face crinkles up as he tries to remember.

"You know … I can't remember …"

This sends him off into another bout of insane laughter, the sound sending more spikes of dread through me. Please god … I don't want to turn into this … into him. I find myself rocking slowly and I quickly force myself to stop … I can't lose it … need to stay focused …

"Faith … need to hold onto that … dad said …"

I'm talking out loud again … don't even realize it until I hear the old man's response.

"There is no faith here, it doesn't exist … we don't exist …"

He's eyes roll up into the back of his head for a second and I cringe. His lips still moving …

"… you'll learn, your perception of reality … will change."

I shake my head … I still have my humanity … I can see things clearly … this is strange and different and terrifying, but I can handle it … just need to hold onto my beliefs, my memories and my reality …I won't let them break me …

"We create our own hell … I did this to myself … it's my fault …"

He chuckles … he seems lucid again …

"… the demons just feed off the torment we create for ourselves."

"I won't let that happen … I won't …"

The last thing dad said to me was that I had to have faith … and I do … Sammy will save me from this place … he'll find a way … and if he can't I'll crawl out of here like dad did … I won't be here for long … one way or the other …

I watch as the old man picks up a stone and starts scratching a line into the rock behind him. The entire rock is covered with little lines … and as I look around, I notice that most of the rocks are covered with those same scratch marks.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm counting …"

I want to chuckle, this old coot has obviously lost his mind ... probably a long time ago already …

"Counting what?"

He looks at me as if he's seeing me for the first time.

"You must be new here."

I nod my head … he's madder than a marsh hare, but at least he's someone to talk to … I tentatively stretch my bruised body as I try to find a more comfortable position.

"I'm counting the days."

I look at him incredulously.

"So what? You're saying you know what date it is?"

"Yes … counting … it keeps me sane."

I would snort in amusement if it weren't so sad.

"How are you keeping track … you just said there is no reality here … I assume that applies to time as well."

He grins at me again through rotten teeth.

"I worked it out … I used to be clever …"

His brow furrows …

"I think I was … doesn't matter though, nothing matters … but I have a system …"

I shake my head wearily.

"Why?"

He stops to ponder the question, and I lose him to the blank stare again … trying to call him back … but he's caught up in his own head, mumbling to himself. I rest my head against the rock, my own mind wandering … hoping.

"So what's your name?"

I jump slightly … recoiling as I watch the old guy crawl towards me, finally resting his bony frame next to me as we sit side by side.

"Dean … Dean Winchester."

His head nods loosely, I'm almost expecting it to break off his thin shoulders and tumble to the floor.

"Funny that … I think I met a Winchester once, but I can't be sure … my mind isn't what it used to be …"

He couldn't possibly …

"Winchester? … did you know John Winchester?"

"Yes, that's it … John … he was a feisty one … they took pleasure in breaking him … sometimes I think I can still hear his screams."

Anger flares up in me again … the image of dad flittering through my memory. But this could be the key ...

"He got out though … how did he get out? How did he escape?"

"They come and go … it's hard to keep track. They'll torture you until you lose you mind."

His eye twitches. I grab his thin arm and shake him …

"How did he get out?"

But I can see from his eyes that I've lost him again. I sigh in frustration. Closing my own eyes and trying to calm myself … I just need patience, I need to be patient with him ...

Pain instantly ignites through me, and I can't help but scream, opening my eyes and finding myself spread eagled, hanging in a maze of cables and chains … god … where am I, what happened? Hooks are piercing my body as I hang suspended. How did I get here, I don't remember? Panic instantly takes control of my body and I start shouting, my voice going hoarse. Sweat and blood dripping from my body. I can't move and I scream again in terror, calling for help as lightning flashes around me in dark clouds.

"HELP! … HELP! …"

This isn't real … please god … this isn't real …

"no, no … SOMEBODY HELP ME!"

I'm alone, completely alone. I yell again.

"SAM … SAM!"

My eyes fly open. I'm still drenched in sweat as I scramble away, trying to escape the unbearable torture until I realize that I'm sitting on the floor, next to the rock … the old man smiling next to me, like I was never gone.

"Bruno!"

He looks at me in triumph, laughter dancing behind his dull eyes.

"What?"

I'm shuddering violently … the pain of the hooks still lancing through my body … I look down and see the deep wounds in my side and shoulder. My wrist and ankles bloodies and bruised. God, where was I … where did I go?

"Bruno … my name is Bruno!"

"What … just happened?"

"They came to take you away."

His brow furrows and he looks at me as if I'm the demented one.

"Who did?"

"The demons …"

It almost becomes like clockwork after that … every time I close my eyes with exhaustion I wake up, suspended in chains, my screams falling on deaf ears. I can feel my mind slipping. I'm trying to cling to sanity … cling to dad's words, but I find myself wondering where Sam is … wondering if he's even trying to save me anymore … wondering if he even can. When I find myself with Bruno I try to remember to ask him questions, but my mind becomes clouded and disorientated … occasionally I hear the screams of the many other souls stuck in this pit with us … and I fold in on myself … trying to block out the sounds … knowing the agony they're suffering. I'm on the verge of complete despair when it happens.

I've just closed my eyes … almost expecting to wake up suspended in hooks and chains. Instead I feel softness … I'm lying on something soft and comfortable. I'm still trying to work my mind around this new change in events, when I feel it. Someone is holding my hand, soft circles repeating soothingly on the inside of my palm. I try to concentrate, my brain still so foggy, but somewhere in the recesses of my memories, this feels familiar … the smell … I know that smell. I open my eyes tentatively, fighting against the heavy pull of sleep, and look into soft concerned eyes.

"Sammy?"

My voice breaks, croaky from disuse … but I'm looking at him … I'm looking at my baby brother … and I can hardly believe it. Tears instantly well up in my eyes.

"Hey … it's about time you woke up."

He smiles down at me, the joy on his face contagious as he quickly runs his fingers affectionately through my hair. I revel in that touch, taking in a shaky breath … I can hardly believe my eyes … Sammy? … and instantly I'm crying … sobbing with the purest joy I have ever felt. Sammy immediately leans forward, gently squeezing the back of my neck.

"Dean … It's okay … you're okay …"

His eyes are cloudy with unshed tears, relief etched on his worn features.

"Sammy … oh god … I thought …"

"Shhh Dean … it's okay, you're safe … we got you back, and I won't let anything or anyone ever hurt you again … do you hear me! Never again!"

His voice is soft but full of conviction and I can only nod, tears still streaming down my face, my lips trembling feverishly with emotion.

"How did you …"

He seems to read my thoughts.

"We summonsed them Dean … we summonsed Lilith and the Hunter and even Ruby … and we … I killed them all. Your contract was destroyed. We weren't sure if it would work at first, and I've been waiting and praying … you have no idea how long … but you're awake now, and everything's going to be fine."

The determined glint in his eyes warms the broken pieces of my soul. I'm too tired to talk, but I keep my eyes fixed on my brother … I never thought I'd see him again …

"You nearly died Dean, your body nearly died … I was sure I had lost you forever … but I found a way, and I bought you back … and I promise, I promise you that nothing bad will ever happen to you again!"

He pulls me up gently into his embrace and I cling to him, heartbroken sobs wracking my aching body. Sammy, my baby bro … he saved me … I knew he would … I knew it …

"Sammy … I don't ever … want to go back … never … please …"

My words hiccup painfully in my chest …

"… I've never … been so scared … I was losing it …"

"It's alright … I've got you … you won't ever go back, you hear me … it's okay, you're safe."

He rocks me gently in his embrace as I clutch at him frantically, to afraid to let go … I'm safe … thank god, I'm finally safe … I smile through trembling lips. I hold onto him for the longest time, just taking comfort in the knowledge that I'm back, that we won … and that Sammy saved me.

"How long … was I gone?"

"Four months Dean … four long and anxious months."

He cups my face in his hands before gently laying me back down onto the soft mattress. Four months. I was in hell for four eternally long months … I try to block the images … it's okay now, I survived … dad said I had to hold onto faith, and I did … and he was right."

I smile up at my brother, just looking at him, reveling in actually seeing him again. I turn to look around … but my joy instantly vanishes as I look into dark empty space. My heart starts hammering madly in my chest. My panicked gaze quickly returning to Sammy's face. Maybe I'm losing my mind. But Sammy just smiles … his expression serene … he doesn't seem to realize that the room we're in doesn't exist … am I going crazy? I reach up to feel his face, I need to hold onto him, need his solid touch to keep me grounded … but as my fingers reach for his cheek the image of him crumbles … he turns to dust before my eyes. A loud roar of denial escapes my lips, reaching forward, trying to hold on to him, grabbing and clutching at thin air … he's gone, there's nothing … there never was … everything is gone. It's suddenly dark again and the horror of realization rips at my sanity. I hear my broken voice being absorbed by the darkness ...

"NOOOOOOOOOO!!"

"… it's so hard … it hard to tell the difference …"

My eyes fly open … I'm sitting next to Bruno … I fall sideways, retching.

"Eventually you won't know reality from truth. You'll forget boy … and in a way that's good … it better not to remember …"

I start convulsing, tears streaming down my face, my voice so weak I can barely hear myself.

"Bruno … how … long?"

He tries to smile, but his eyes are full of sadness … god … do I really want to know?

"Please … how long?"

His bony hand reaches out to touch my arm.

"I'm sorry … John … no, not John … Dean…"

My voice shakes as I find the urge to yell.

"JUST TELL ME, how long have I been here!"

"… a day … it's only been a day …"

Another sob shudders through my body. I can feel the insanity pulling at the edges of my mind. I'm going to end up like Bruno … and I can't fight it anymore.

I look at my bloodied and beaten body … my soul … and I chuckle insanely … lifting up my weary head … to find myself staring into the faces of a group of demons surrounding me.

"We've been waiting for this moment for a long time …Dean Winchester."

I have no doubt that it's every single evil son of a bitch that I sent back here in the first place …

"Leave him … alone …"

Bruno is trying to stand on his shaky, thin legs … but they push him with such force that he just flies through the air for a few feet before landing hard, unmoving.

"NO!"

I can't move to help him … my body too weary to respond to my commands …

"_Have faith Dean … just hold onto that"_

How dad … you didn't tell me how. I sob, I can't stop myself. The demons advance on me. I'm just too tired and too weak to run, defeated. Besides there's nowhere for me to go, so I watch helplessly as they encircle me, clawing at me as they grip at my skin. I can only yell in total anguish as they drag me away into the darkness …

"SAMMY … GOD … PLEASE … PLEASE SAVE ME!"

_**TBC**_


	9. Chapter 7

**Notes:** Hi guys, thank you once again for the amazing reviews and alerts … they are always appreciated ;0) – sorry for the delay in getting this chapter out to you, but my brain was on the fritz. Thanks as always to my amazing beta Phoebe, who manages to keep me sane, which is a very scary job ... she's demanding danger pay LOL ;0)

Next chapter will be from Dean's POV again … we'll be bouncing between both brother's perspectives from here on out – so if you're still hanging in there with me … enjoy …

**Warning:** Mild Language

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**Chapter 7**

**"Hope"**

Sammy's POV

_Dean has taken off again. Shit, I hate it when he does this. I start running after him, hearing his footfalls a few feet ahead but I can't see him as we dash through the dense foliage. _

"_Dean ... wait up."_

_I can hear him chuckling, the adrenalin of the chase fuelling his speed and I can only try and keep pace ... but it's so dark and I'm getting disorientated._

"_Dean ... please, stop a second ... where are you?"_

"_Come on Sammy boy ... it's getting away ..."_

_I follow his voice, his laughter dancing just out of my reach, branches scratching and clutching at me as I fight my way through. I need to hurry, I have Dean's back, it's my job ... need to be with him. I run faster, my chest burning with each gasp of breath, until I finally stumble into a clearing, but Dean's not there._

"_Dean?"_

_No answer. I look around wildly, starting to panic ... I need to find him, that thing could get the drop on him if I'm not there to help, look out for him._

_"DEAN!"_

_Nothing ... please god ... where is he?_

_I stumble around in the darkness, lightning suddenly flashing overhead. I look up in confusion, dark green clouds swirling around a maze of chains ..._

"_SAM! SAM! HELP ME!"_

"_DEAN!" I search the skies, the sound is coming from above but I can't see him ..._

_"DEAN ... WHERE ARE YOU!!"_

_I can hear his pained screams and it sends a spike of terror through my heart ... I've never heard him scream like that before ... ever ..._

"_HELP ME SAMMY ... PLEASE!"_

_I can't find him, shit where is he ... he needs me ... he's hurting ... I turn around in confused circles, the clouds drifting down in dark, suffocating waves, enveloping me ... NO ... I need to find my brother ..._

"DEANNNNN!"

My eyes fly open as I bolt upright into a sitting position, hands immediately going out to steady me.

"Easy Sam ... easy!"

I look into Bobby's concerned face, my chest flaring up in pain ... I look around in confusion, I'm in a hospital room …

"Dean ... where's Dean?"

... it hurts ... can't breathe …

"He's still in surgery kiddo ... deep breaths Sam, just calm down ..."

There's something on my face, tubes inserted in my nose ... oxygen ... I pull at it, but Bobby stills my hand ... my heart thumping wilding in my chest ...

"Surgery?"

Oh god, the memories come rushing back and I choke on the despair tearing at me from the inside ...

"Breathe Sam ... for the love of god ... come on boy ..."

The monitor next to me is beeping in alarm as a nurse rushes in, pushing Bobby out the way ...

"What happened?"

I can hear Bobby attempting to explain as I try to push myself up again ... I need to find Dean … I can still hear his screams … he's suffering. The room suddenly tilts, fading in and out as hands push me back down firmly ... I watch in confusion as the nurse injects something into my IV line ...

"No ..."

The effects are almost instantaneous, my body immediately feels like it's floating as the drug sweeps through me in a warm wave. My head starts swimming as I look up blankly at the ceiling, still seeing the network of chains and cables in my mind's eye. My breathing slows down, the instinct to fight leaving me as I look over at Bobby, tears welling up in my eyes ...

"You with us Sam?"

I can only nod my head … distraught … Dean is gone, and I didn't save him …

"... God kid ... you're going to give me a heart attack ..."

I watch as the nurse works around me, grunting painfully as she adjusts the bandages taped tightly around my torso.

"Damnit ... take it easy on him ..."

Bobby's voice is gruff as he frowns at the nurse, but she ignores him, her eyes boring into me instead.

"Mr. Kent if you insist on moving again I'll make sure the next sedative I give you knocks you out, do you understand me!"

Bobby's face instantly flares red, standing up and placing himself protectively next to me.

"Tarnation lady … just you hold up a second there... don't you dare talk to him like that! He's been to hell and back today, kid is terrified for his brother's well being... and he sure as shit doesn't need no crap from the likes of you …!"

The nurse huffs, looking between both of us, probably feeling remorse and not knowing what to say. She checks my chart again, a deep frown on her face, before she brushes past Bobby and out of the room. I watch her leave in a haze. My breaths are evening out and suddenly I'm very tired, but I don't want to sleep, I can't ... I need to know how Dean is ... if he's even still alive ...

Bobby sits down next to me again, his hand gripping my arm in reassurance.

"I'm sorry kiddo, didn't know they hired bona fide witches in this place …"

He grins at me, but I don't smile back. Bobby's eyes cloud with concern again.

"… I know you're worried Sam ... but we have to be patient, they'll tell us what's happening as soon as the surgery's over."

"... how ... long?"

He rubs my arm gently, wiping his free hand across his mouth as he considers my question.

"You've been unconscious for just over an hour, you were in surgery with Dean for three, so just over four in total ..."

Four hours ... he's been in surgery for four hours ... I don't know if that's a good or bad sign ...

"... you gave everyone a big scare ya know. Seems you busted your ribs pretty bad, I don't think there's one that isn't bruised or broken, nearly punctured a lung ... the doctor who checked on you said he didn't know how you even managed to stay on your feet for so long ... but we both know it's that stubborn Winchester streak ..."

He winks at me, trying unsuccessfully to lighten the mood. He coughs uncomfortably.

"… anyway he says that as long as you take it easy for the next couple a days, you'll make a full recovery."

I look down at my chest with disinterest, bandages covering my whole torso, an IV line taped to my hand. My hand reaches up to clutch desperately at Dean's amulet still hanging around my neck, it's like I have a piece of him with me, he has to be okay. 'Please, don't die Dean ... give me another chance to save you'. They've thankfully removed my clothing, and I'm wearing a pair of hospital issue pyjama bottoms … the thought of having to wake up still covered in Dean's blood makes my stomach turn. Bobby leans closer, scratching his stubbled chin.

"Do you need to talk about it son?"

A single tear escapes down the side of my cheek, my throat feels raw with pent up emotions and I just shake my head slowly. I should be nodding instead, getting on my knees and begging, 'cause I don't know what to do and I don't know how to ask for help. I mean how am I supposed to fix this? How can I ask Bobby and Ellen to help me fix this when I don't even know where to start? I rub absently at the bandages, trying to ease the pain as I swallow back another lump in my throat, my mind working overtime, trying to find something to hold on to. I find that I'm shaking slightly, Dean's screams still echoing in my head … god please … I'll do anything ...

"Bobby …?"

Bobby looks into my eyes, I'm almost sure the devastation I feel is reflecting there.

"I know kid … I know … but we'll find a way, we have to."

He swallows back some tears of his own, quickly rubbing his hand across his face. I know he loves us like sons and he's in as much pain as I am …

"… 'sides Dean wouldn't give up if it were one of us …"

Dean didn't give up on me ...

"... anyways, Ellen's already called a few of her contacts … we'll find something Sam, we'll do whatever it takes … we just need some time."

My voice breaks as he squeezes my shoulder.

"Yeah … but I don't think Dean … has that much time left …"

We sit in silence, each of us fighting our own internal demons … knowing that we have to somehow save Dean doesn't change the fact that we couldn't the first time round … that we may be too late already to even give it a second try …

Bobby's sipping on his third cup of coffee and after what feels like an eternity, Doctor Howard finally sticks his head through the door, knocking lightly before coming into the room to give us a rundown on Dean's condition. He's changed into fresh green scrubs, probably because he was covered in as much of Dean's blood as I was …

"How you doing Sam?"

"… okay …"

My hands fist into the sheets next to me. I'm trying to read his expression … hoping against hope that his next words won't be the words I'm dreading …

He picks up my chart, he seems to be preparing himself to give me the news and it only manages to instil a dark fear in me …

"Please doc …"

My voice quavers, sounding strange to my own ears ... I sound terrified …

"Sorry Sam … I know you're anxious to hear about your brother … but I don't want you to work yourself up, you're my patient too, and you gave us quiet a scare back in the OR." He smiles as he moves over to stand next to my bed, glancing over the readouts from the monitors, before settling his sympathetic gaze back on mine.

"I'm afraid the news isn't good … he's in very critical condition."

I swallow back the bile rising in my throat …

"He's just come out of surgery and we're settling him into intensive care at the moment but ..."

Oh god ... there's a but ...

"... he's body is still in severe shock. Although the operation was on all accounts a success, he's slipped into a deep coma and we had to put him on full life support."

"He's still alive though … he's still hanging on …"

The desperation in my voice has Doctor Howard frowning down at me in concern.

"Sam, he's in what we call hypovolemic shock. In your brothers case it's due to the excessive blood loss he suffered. We're giving him blood transfusions, because in severe cases like Dean's, a low blood volume can result in multiple organ failure. We'll be administering a unit of blood every 4 hours, and because he is at a high risk of congestive heart failure we will administer a diuretic to prevent fluid overload."

Bobby is still tightly clutching my shoulder and I try to draw some comfort from that connection. I concentrate on Doctor Howard's next words, his voice slow and patient as he explains.

"We haven't identified the reason but his body seems to be shutting down. We have him on mechanical ventilation to assist his breathing. We've started replacing lost fluid volume with a saline drip, and we've inserted a nasogastric tube, intravenous lines for drug infusions, suction pumps, drains, and catheters.

He's speaking doctor speak, some of the things not making much sense, but I get the just of it ... I think he wants me to understand the severity of Dean's condition.

"He's on a wide array of drugs including inotropes, sedatives, broad spectrum antibiotics and analgesics. He'll be under close observation for the next 24 hour and we'll be checking for cardiac dysrhythmias. He also has a low grade fever and I'm concerned that it's due to a secondary infection. We'll do a secondary survey head-to-toe evaluation, including the reassessment of all vital signs as soon as we see some improvement."

My breath starts hitching again and the doc immediately adjusts the oxygen flow, his voice anxious.

"I think that's enough for now kid, you've had a rough day … I'm going to give you something to help you sleep …"

"No …" I take a few slow, even breaths, fighting the panic, "… no … I'm okay, please … I need to know …"

He looks at me assessingly.

"Are you sure?"

I nod again. "Please ..."

"I seriously think you need to rest Sam ... but I also know you probably won't relax until I finish giving you a break down on Dean's condition ..."

He winks knowingly at Bobby and me, a grin tugging at Bobby's lips.

"Well, under the circumstances the wound couldn't be kept sterile and he has a bacterial infection, but we're treating it with aggressive doses of antibiotics."

Bobby looks at me, trying to gauge my reaction, he knows I blame myself. The doc notices it too because he quickly adds, "...but just so you know, you did an excellent job off applying pressure directly to the hemorrhage. Your brother would have bled out and died before reaching the hospital if you hadn't."

It doesn't make me feel any better.

"I know this is a lot to take in kiddo, but we're doing everything we can for him."

"Thanks doc…" I need to know one last thing, "... is he going to …"

A small smile pulls at his lips, he's probably had to deal with hundreds of concerned family members in similar situations, except this isn't like anything he's ever dealt with before. If he knew the whole story, if he knew what we did for a living and why Dean's soulless body is in a coma ... I'd probably be in the psych ward right now for observation.

"At this stage it's very hard to tell. The next 24 hours are going to be critical."

I nod, it's all I can do. I know he can't give me any guarantees.

"When can we see him?"

Bobby's voice sounds gravelly ...

"As soon as we have him settled in you can see him for a few minutes, but I don't want Sam here to overtax himself, he's been through a lot today …" he looks at me pointedly, "... and you can only go on one condition, you let your uncle here take you through in a wheelchair. A nurse will come through in about 30 minutes to help, she'll take you both to the ICU."

Bobby chuckles at my disgusted look, but I don't argue, I have to see Dean with my own eyes.

"Just remember, he's connected to a lot of equipment, he's stable for now, but it may be a shock to see him... so prepare yourselves."

My stomach flutters from memories of previous hospital visits. I've seen Dean in these situations before, but somehow I know seeing him now is going to be so much worse. Knowing that he's not here, that we may never get him back. Dean's desperate pleas echo in my head like a waking nightmare. I shudder, trying instead to concentrate as the doc gives me a quick update on my own condition. Apparently passing out in the OR still has him very concerned as he continues to check my readouts and adjust my IV line. After he's satisfied that I'm not going to 'up-n-die' on him, he finally leaves, telling me to get some rest and that he'll be back later to check on me again.

"I ... kinda like him …"

Bobby nods in agreement, mumbling to himself.

"Yeah, he's a sight better than some of the people in this joint."

I finding myself absently wondering how we're going to pull off a fake medical insurance claim for the costs this is going to involve, but I also know that Bobby will find a way, he always does. He gets up, bones popping as he stretches. I can't help but chuckle as he looks at me in embarrassment.

"Old body isn't what it used to be, see how you hold up when ya reach my age." If I reach his age. "I'm going to make a few more phone calls, catch up with Ellen and see if she has anything for us yet … if ya need anything, just holler."

"Bobby … thanks …"

I can barely look him in the eye.

"It's okay son … just glad I can be here for you … now try and get some shut eye, I'll wake you when we can go see Dean!"

I smile tentatively, watching as he puts the old leather book that's been resting on his lap next to the table by my bed before tapping the Colt reassuringly as it sticks awkwardly out of his belt under his jacket. He somehow managed to save it at the crossroads with the book. I look at the man in awe. I don't think I would have managed if he weren't here, and I don't know how I'll ever repay him, but he says we're family, guess that's a good enough reason for him. I watch as he leaves, sinking further into the softness of the mattress … exhaustion threatening to overwhelm me. I reach up stiffly to turn off the light above my bed when I spot the book again. I tentatively pick up the old leather bound manuscript ... it seems so fragile; I'm almost expecting it to disintegrate in my hands. I open to the first page, reading the inscription ... it's in Latin, I recognize the words. Dean and I had to learn Latin early, dad drilled it into our heads like everything else he ever taught us ... although sometimes we forget the complicated incantations ... there are hundreds ... we both can read and understand the words perfectly … plus I aced Latin at Stanford.

I let my finger brush over the neat handwriting, finding myself reading those words as they flow off the page with such majestic beauty that I'm instantly caught up in the history. A strange but warm familiarity settles over me as I read about things that have happened, even some things I've researched, but whoever wrote it, was writing as if these things were still going to happen. A prophecy of the future and past. My eyes eventually grow heavy, and even though I fight it, reminding myself to stay awake cause I need to see Dean, the book eventually falls open on my chest and my head falls back. In an instant I'm pulled back into fitful dreams, running, trying to keep up with Dean who just manages to stay out of my reach and his tortured screams breaking my heart.

--

**1 month later**

… God … I'm exhausted …

I lean back in the hard chair next to Dean's bed. Bobby and Ellen are chasing up another lead. We've been taking turns to spend time with Dean over the last month. Endless hours and days of research, trying to find a way to get Dean's soul back, but so far still nothing. I suddenly feel the urge to throw up again, but instead I swallow, trying to keep the meagre lunch I had down. I can't afford to get sick ... there's no time.

Looking at him like this, watching the machines pushing air into his unresponsive lungs, brings back the memory of the first time I saw him after his surgery. Luckily I was in a wheelchair 'cause I think my knees would've given out under my weight. He looked like he does now ... still ... pale ... lifeless. I knew it would be a shock, but seeing him ... seeing him like this ... my big brother ... memories of how he was, who he was ... it just brought the reality back home, the responsibility weighing heavily on my shoulders. I don't remember much, just know that I was sobbing like a baby and Bobby had me in a tight hug, just letting me cry.

I rub my eyes and yawn before stretching tentatively. My ribs still hurt, but only when I breathe. Tiredly, I look over at Dean's serene face ... like he's just sleeping ... like he's not in hell. I've memorized every line, nuance and shadow of his features. I've even drawn a few bad sketches of him in my journal, but each picture seems better then the last, mostly done out of boredom, waiting to hear from Bobby or Ellen or anyone … he's lost some weight … but that's to be expected I suppose.

I lean forward to remove the cloth from his forehead again, dipping it into the basin of cool water next to his bed, wringing it out and replacing it. He still has a fever … it comes and goes, the doctor can only treat him with broad spectrum antibiotics in the hopes that it will cure whatever infection is still lingering in his weak body. Like that will help at this point.

Running my fingers through his hair, I realise he'll need a cut when he wakes up … I can barely see the protection charm that I know is there. Bobby drew it with a permanent marker on the top of Dean's head, scared that Dean's body could become possessed, it's an open vessel ... and those bastards know he's out here, know his easy pickings. I grind my teeth.

Dean's condition has steadily been getting worse. I sigh wearily. They've connected him to what they call hemofiltration equipment, a type of dialysis for acute renal failure. His body is apparently going into multiple organ dysfunction syndrome … I chuckle dryly … amazing what you can pick up by just listening to the doctors talk.

I look at his smooth features, dark, sunken eyes with long eyelashes brushing pale cheeks. A maze of tubes and lines and wires ... his chest rising systematically with each swoosh of the machine, before his lungs deflate again ... endless, continuous motion ... keeping him alive ... barely.

Words like 'acutely ill' and 'medical intervention' have been floating around, but apparently all it means is that his organs are shutting down one by one due to the infection caused by the injury. An infection he got because I pushed my fingers into the wound to stop him from bleeding out. I look at my hands in disgust. Dean not only has to fight for his life because of a serious stab wound, but I could very well be the reason his body finally fails him, the reason he dies. My elbows rest heavily on my knees as I scrub my hands across my heavily stubbled chin, fighting back the ever present tears that keep threatening to form again; they're never too far from the surface. I make myself sick … self loathing has become my new pastime.

The doctor came in a few minutes ago to give me more bad news. I find that I can't remember the last time I heard any good news. Dean is still in septic shock which, in turn, is aggravating his respiration, even though he is still on a ventilator. He's in renal failure and now he's suffering from gastrointestinal bleeding, his whole body is in an inflammatory state. The bacteria in his bloodstream ... it's my fault ... he's dying … they just don't realize that he's already dead.

Agitated, I get up, making my way to the vending machine, smiling wanly at all the nurses who know me so well already, before pouring another cup of the steaming black liquid which passes for coffee. I remember Doctor Howard's face when he first told me just how sick Dean was getting.

"Sam, the mortality rate for sepsis is high, but we're more worried it will lead to septic shock. We've taken a culture to check for specific evidence of bacterial infection, there are signs of acute peritonitis and the abnormal chest x-rays are consistent with pneumonia."

I was still reeling from the words 'sepsis' and 'pneumonia'; I almost missed the rest of his words.

"The therapy for sepsis consists mainly of antibiotics, surgical drainage of infected fluids which are collecting near his heart and fluid replacement, plus support for organ dysfunction. Dean's kidney failure and abnormal heart rhythm are both symptoms of multiple organ dysfunction. I'm sorry, but there's nothing more we can do. We can only monitor him at present, but he'll eventually go into systolic heart failure ... it's just a matter of time."

I take another swig of the hot coffee, letting it burn its way down my throat before turning and slowly heading back.

Just as I turn the corridor I see a swarm of activity as nurses run into Dean's room. Shit, I wasn't gone for more than 5 minutes, this can't be happening, my heart plummets, dropping the full Styrofoam cup as I rush forward. I find Doctor Howard leaning over Dean, monitors screeching as Dean convulses violently, his body wracked with seizures. I look on in horror.

"What's happening ... what happened?"

Someone is gently pushing me out the door.

"You need to wait outside Sam."

"No ... Dean ... is he okay?"

The nurse manages to close the door and I look down at her incredulously.

"What the hell is happening?"

She manoeuvres me over to a nearby chair and I sit down heavily.

"It's the fever ... the doctor will be out as soon as he stabilizes your brother ..."

I heave, my hand flying to cover my mouth ... getting up and running to the bathroom down the hall, just barely making it to my knees over the toilet before I throw up. I lean on shaky arms over the rim, hearing the nurse's concerned voice through the closed door.

"You okay in there Sam?"

"Yeah ... just give me ... a minute ..."

I know she's outside, waiting for me ... but I don't care. I slide down, leaning against the cold wall ... trying to gather myself. I close my eyes, seeing Dean like that, helpless to do anything. A little piece of me is dying each day with him ... knowing with a certainty that I won't be able to hunt and carry on, I've been trying ... and I can't. If I lose him, if he dies because of me ... I shake my head. I sit there for a few more moments, before pushing myself up slowly and stumbling over to the basin, cleaning up as best I can, rinsing my mouth and splashing the cool water on my face. I don't bother to look at myself in the mirror; I know I look like shit.

The nurse is still waiting outside the door as I step out, her concern evident as she helps me carefully back to a chair. It's Judy from the ER, not that other nurse Bobby had a fight with. I think he must've said something cause I haven't seen her since. Yeah, Bobby Singer, official guardian to all things Winchester. I find myself grinning stupidly at the thought

The doctor finally emerges, looking worried and tired. I try to stand but Judy has her hands on my shoulder. Doctor Howard sits down next to me.

"Before you ask, he's alive ... his temperature just suddenly spiked and he went into seizures. It happens in cases like this, but we're managing it with ice packs and medication."

If I weren't so sick with worry, I'd chuckle, remembering how Dean hates ice packs. The doc looks at me and I know what he's going to say before the words leave his mouth.

"Sam, he doesn't have much time left son, even though he's a real fighter, you need to prepare yourself for the worst."

I nod ... I know ...

"I understand you don't want to take him off life support ... but I'd like you to reconsider ..."

I look at him, tears clouding my vision.

"I can't ... I just can't ..."

My voice is soft and broken. I can't explain why, can't explain that I'm still praying we'll find a way to save Dean's soul and hope against all hope that he'll recover.

"Okay kiddo ..."

He pats me lightly on the shoulder before getting up, giving out instructions to a few of the medical staff as Judy walks with me back to Dean's room. I settle myself in the chair next to his bed again, eyes downcast, not daring to look at Dean for fear of having another breakdown. I'm barely hanging on ... dad said I need to have faith ... but I'm losing faith, losing hope. Instead I pick up the prophecy ... letting my fingers run over the warn leather cover. I've read the whole thing from front to back. I know this prophecy was meant for Dad, Dean and I, but it never got to us. The author, someone called Bruno, wrote a detailed account of things that he knew would happen, but some of the things he saw haven't come true. Apparently the intervention from the demons was unexpected, even to Bruno, and the section about our lives, our future was torn out by the Hunter and destroyed. I carefully flip through the last few pages, they're filled with spells and incantations, some we've never seen or heard of before, but Bobby did some investigating and they seem legitimate enough, we'll only know when we get the opportunity to use them on some creature or other.

But there's nothing, not one single thing that can help me bring Dean back. So it's just another old book, written by someone who thought he was doing us a favour, and even if there was a way to save Dean, it would have been on the pages that were destroyed. The Hunter knew it, he knew what he was doing when he ripped those pages out ... those precious sheets burning up in his hands ... Bruno's last manuscript ... and rage boils inside me again. I watch as my tears fall onto the fragile paper and I sniff, blinking back the sobs that are threatening to choke me. Dean would rag me endlessly if he knew how I've been crying these last few weeks, I smile sadly, god I miss him. I watch the stain spread across the yellowed page, but just as I'm about to snap the book shut, I notice words on the inside cover. It's badly faded, so I pull it closer, trying to read them ... 'sola fides' ... 'by faith alone' ... faith … my heart nearly stops.

I rub my thumb over those words, my heart thumping wildly in my chest as I feel a slight bulge under the cover. I test the rest of the cover, but the bulge is just in that corner. I take my penknife out of my pocket and carefully cut along the binding, separating the leather from the cover, making a straight incision. I push my fingers into the cavity between the pages and pull out a folded sheaf of yellow paper, so old and fragile I'm afraid it will crumble to dust if I touch it. A hidden note from Bruno. I can hardly contain the surge of hope as I unfold it.

I read the words, an incantation ... and I start crying ... my hand shaking as I read and re-read each line. It's been under my nose all this time. Is it possible? Maybe I'm just dreaming this, I pinch myself, and I'm definitely awake. I jump up, grabbing my cell before quickly pressing quick-dial for Bobby. I'm bouncing on the heels of my feet as I wait for him to pick-up ... it can't be ... it can't be ...

Bobby's gruff 'Yeah Sam' makes me smile heartily for the first time in weeks.

"Bobby ... I think I've found something ..."

"You're shitting me boy ... where? ... what?"

I'm bursting with excitement, it's been months, months of fruitless research and hundreds of dead ends ... and here I am holding the most precious thing in my hands right now ...

I quickly give Bobby details of what I've found and half an hour later he burst in the door, grabbing me firmly by the shoulders and shaking me ... a look of disbelief and joy warring on his features. He takes the note carefully, his own hands shaking so badly he can barely read the incantation.

"Sam, shit kiddo ... it looks genuine, call me a monkeys uncle ... but this may actually work ..."

I grin happily ... god ... thank you, thank you ...

Bobby grabs me behind the neck and looks me in the eye, his face suddenly deadly serious.

"You know there'll be consequences. Are you willing to take that risk?"

... God yes... I nod my head vigorously ... I'll do anything ... we'll handle the ramifications afterwards ... but Bobby needs more convincing ...

"You need to ask yourself ... would Dean want you to do this Sam?"

My voice quavers ... there's no other choice ... I know what Dean would say, but he's not here, so it's my decision ...

"Please Bobby ... it's all I have ... I can't do this alone anymore, I can't live this life ... I need him back."

Bobby nods, wiping at his nose with a hanky, relief still evident by his expression.

"Okay son ... if you're sure ... but its going to be all hell to pay when word of this gets out, we're going to have to be careful."

"We'll handle that as it happens ... will you help me?"

He nods his head, grinning and then slapping me on the shoulder.

"Of course ... you didn't even need to ask me that ya moron!"

Ellen arrives a few minutes later, Bobby phoned her to give her the rundown on what's happening. She looks at us in disbelief.

"I don't like this one bit Sam ... this is going to back fire somehow, I just know it ... but yes, I'll go with you ... god forgive me ... this better work!"

A surge of energy fills me as we make our plans ... this isn't going to be easy, but the excitement I feel is contagious as both Bobby and Ellen rattle off instructions.

"We need to do this at exactly the same time Sam, I'll be here in Dean's room the whole time, so call me when you get there!"

He puts the Colt in my hand, squeezing my shoulder reassuringly. I grin. This is going to work ...

"I can't believe I'm doing this ... again."

Ellen shakes her head, but she's also grinning ... we all know this is it ... this is our only chance. I move over to the bed, looking down at dying brother, before leaning forward to gently kiss his warm forehead, maybe for the last time, praying that it won't be ... it's my last hope, my last resort to save Dean ...

Determination steels me for the task ahead as Ellen and I head out for Wyoming, the Colt securely tucked into my belt. We're headed for the Hell's Gate.

"Just hang in there bro ... I'm coming to get you!"

--

**2 hours later**

Ellen and I are standing at the mausoleum, in front of the Hell's Gate. The last time we were here, Dean killed old YED and we saw dad ... it was also the day I found out that Dean had sold his soul to bring me back ... funny how things can return in full circle ... I'm here, trying to bring Dean back ...

I let the restoration incantation repeat in my head as I look at the markings on the Gate, my fingers running over the intricate grooves. I learnt it by heart on the way over ... don't want to have my nose pressed to a piece of paper when the shit hits the fan ...

I look over at Ellen, who raises her eyebrows and sighs nervously before phoning Bobby … this is it.

"Bobby ... we're here ... I'm ready ..."

"Okay kiddo, we'll start on the count of three, need to both be saying the same words at the same time for this to work. Dean's soul will be pulled from hell with your incantation and then returned to his body with my incantation, so whatever you do, don't stop, don't let anything distract you ... good luck boy ... and for god sakes Sam, just make sure you and Ellen come back in one piece!"

I chuckle, adrenalin coursing through my veins as I place the Colt in the lock and turn, the inscription on the handle 'I will fear no evil' giving me the courage I need, looking at Ellen one last time before the final mechanism slips into place. I count to three with Bobby, dropping the cell, my voice reverberating as the incantation fills the air and I feel the tremendous force of the doors rattling beneath my palms … god … please let this work …

_Quod perditum est, invenietur,_

_Nici mort, nici al fiintei,_

_Te invoc spir__it al trecerii,_

The Gates of Hell slam open, a hot wind roaring out and into us. Ellen and I fight the turmoil, pushing at the gates ... trying to control what comes out this time … the words of the incantation mingling with the screeches and screams that are deafening me, as the realm between our world and theirs collides.

_Te implor Doamne; nu ignora aceasta rugaminte,_

_Lasa orbita sa fie vasul care-i va transporta, sufleutul la el,_

_Este scris, aceasta putere este dreptul poporuil meu de a conduce,_

The inscription on the Colt ... 'I will fear no evil'.

_Nici mort, nici al fiintei,_

_te invoc, spirit al trecerii,_

_Reda trupului ce separe de animal,_

Dad whispering in my ear ... "Have faith son, only you can save him."

_Asa sa fie, utrespur aceastui._

_Asa sa fie! Asa sa fie!_

_Acum! Acum!_

Clinging desperately to one thing ... Hope.

_**TBC**_


	10. Chapter 8

**Notes:** Once again, thanks to everyone for the amazing reviews and alerts and fav's … you seriously all make my day! There are only 2 more chapters of this story left if you can hold out that long LOL ;0) - thanks as always to my amazing beta Phoebe, she's very patient with me, which is more than I can say for myself LOL ;0) - I know I've been taking a while to get these chapters out, so shout at me if you want (hides under chair) but I'm hoping to finish this story before the end of the week … and as always, enjoy! ;0)

**Warning:** Mild Language

**Chapter 8**

Dean's POV

* * *

"Child?"

There is no silence in my head. Endless screaming. Endless pain. Endless despair.

Every single second I grieve ... I've watched my mother, my father, my brother die … over and over again … not just in Cold Oak, but every way possible, he's died thousands of times. Everyone I've known … Jess, Madison, Ash … I can never save them … they can never save me ... but the most terrifying thing is that now, every time I see them, I can barely remember who are they are …

"Child?"

The fathomless dark tunnels are the worst. Black soulless eyes … _'this is what you'll become'_ … tearing, gnawing, ripping at me … piece by piece … psychosis raping my mind. The memories make me tremble uncontrollably as I quickly try to block those horrifying images. When the demons drag me away … they say I shouldn't fight … that it will hurt less … but I do fight them … they try to trick me, fool me, suck me in, but I fight them every single time …

"Dean?"

I want to die …

"Open your eyes boy."

… but I'm already dead …

"Come child, you're back, it will be fine … open your eyes."

I shudder weakly; I'm lying in someone's boney arms. My heavy lids open to look up into … um … I know his name; it's … Bruno … Bruno's leathery features. My torment reflects like an endless nightmare in his dull eyes. I move my mouth, trying to speak, my voice a faint, raspy whisper ...

"How … long …?"

He looks down at me with sadness … I vaguely remember that look … it's the one I see … every time I ask …

"30 … it's been 30 days now."

I can't help but chuckle dryly, which makes me cough, sending a white hot spike of pain down my spine. Each day feels like a year, it's getting harder to track time, discern things … if it weren't for Bruno's 'counting' system, I would be lost forever.

I push myself up, Bruno steadying my shivering form to sit next to him, leaning on the rock that has become my lifeline, my connection to a disconnected reality.

I know now that I'll never get out of here, I've resigned myself to the fact that I won't be saved or rescued miraculously. Dad said I needed to have faith, and stupidly I did for a while. I look at my trembling hand, pale and bloody, wondering what the rest of me must look like. I had faith until I realized it was worth nothing … faith doesn't exist, promises don't exist … just like the promise dad made me … _'everything will be okay son'_ … no it won't dad … _'just have faith'_ … I want to cry, but instead I rub my red-rimmed eyes irritably. There are no more tears in this dry wasteland of suffering.

If Sam could have rescued me, he would have done it by now … but there probably is … or was … nothing left to save, my body must've died in his arms. The memory of seeing him that last time flashes through my head … he grieved, and he blamed himself, but time heals all wounds … and even though I know it was and still is hard for him … he's carried on with his life, like I told him to …

… So why does it still hurt so much?

I lean back heavily, looking out at the vast dark landscape of rocks and fathomless pits, trying to ignore the pitch black tunnels and forgotten souls torturing themselves with fading memories. The demons walk amongst us, picking out souls to feed on or torment, and I find myself thinking of Jess and Ash and everyone else taken forcefully by demons. Are they here with me? Could one of the many souls out there be one of them? I sit up straighter, the thought sending a spark of panic through me. They could be here suffering the same fate. I try to pull myself up, I need to see if I can find them ... the hunter in me still trying to save everyone …

"Where are you going to boy?"

"My friends … my friends were taken by demons … their souls were stolen … they could be here Bruno … I need to find them."

Bruno chuckles again, boney hand holding his jutting ribcage as he shakes his head at me in amusement.

"You're new here, aren't you?"

I fall back down, looking at him in confusion.

"Demons lie child … if your friends were innocent bystanders, taken before their time by something indubitably evil, then their souls won't be in this place … demons try to steal good souls, but they can't, it's just how things are. They can't take a good soul unless a deal is made … doesn't stop them from trying though … your friends are not here boy, they are in a good place."

For the first time since I've been here, I feel relief. I chuckle along with Bruno, finding some peace in the knowledge that Jess isn't in hell … neither is Ash. I grin happily, almost forgot how to … I just wish I could tell Sam. Jess' death eats him up inside, and I know it's partly because he thinks that her soul is suffering … like mine. Slowly the smile disappears from my face.

"Bruno … did all these souls … make deals?"

I nod my head in towards the vast cavern.

"Most of them, no … in fact there are very few, but this level is reserved for people who were mostly good during their lifetime, or did good deeds. We all landed up here either by a cruel twist of fate, plus the handful of us who made stupid, impulsive deals to save loved ones. We make the demons sick with our inherent goodness, so they punish us more. They try to change us, convert us, turn us into one of them … but those who don't or won't change, those who refuse to become minions … they eventually get saved."

I look at him in surprise.

"Saved?"

"Yes … if after centuries of torment we still choose not to become demons, then we get taken away by a bright light, forgiven … I've seen it, it's beautiful … I'm waiting for that day child …"

I watch him, his eyes are suddenly shining … with hope … mine just reflecting a darker despair … centuries? I can barely make it through each day … I pull my knees up, resting my head wearily in my folded arms. I close my eyes … and whimper when I open them to a maze of dark clouds. Hooks tearing into already open wounds as I hang suspended from taut chains, my wrist and ankles straining under my weight. I don't cry out for Sam anymore … he can't help me …

--

"There … do you hear it?"

I lift my weary head to look at Bruno, his face lights up as he points at nothing.

"Hear … what?"

"That sound boy … that sound … the gnawing and tearing … it's the hellhounds …"

I try to listen, my head lolling tiredly to the side … I can only hear torment. He smiles at me, intelligence dancing behind his insane eyes.

"It's dinner time ... the hellhounds feed on pure evil … once a day … like clockwork, I've watched them … when I hear them feeding, I know another day has gone by."

He jumps up, with more energy than I thought was possible, on those skinny legs and rushes over to a nearby rock, scratching another mark painstakingly onto a stone.

"How many days … have you been here Bruno?"

"Me?"

He chuckles excitedly.

"Me … I've been here for …"

He starts counting on his fingers, his mouth moving as he rattles off silent numbers.

"… I've been here for 148911 days …"

I try to work out how many years …

"400? You've been here for over 400 years Bruno?"

He looks at me sadly, slowly nodding his head.

"Feels just like just yesterday … when I lost her … you'll see, your perception of reality will change. We create our own hell … I did this to myself … it's my fault …"

I look at the man next to me, the closest thing to a friend, my sanity … and I realise I don't know anything about his life, the life he once had.

"Bruno … what happened to you? How did you land up here?"

I can see him mulling the question over in his head, mumbling to himself, and I almost think that I've lost him again to the recesses of his mind, when he suddenly starts talking, slow and precise … like his reading from a book …

"I was young and ambitious, and in love. Have you ever been in love, boy?"

He doesn't wait for my answer. I don't think he knows I'm here right now.

"She was the most beautiful creature I had ever laid eyes on, but I thought I could never have her, not without wealth. So foolishly, instead of asking her if she would have me the way I was, I made a deal."

I've met too many people who have made similar deals, out of love, revenge, greed, even stupidity. Looking at Bruno now, I know what he did was out of love. I did the same for Sam.

"I was a writer and philosopher, a good one, maybe the best …" he chuckles, shrugging his shoulders, "… funny, I don't remember what most of my books were about anymore, just one book, my final manuscript … the demon took it … that's the one I can never forget … it's my punishment …"

He's sunken eyes move over to me in an instant of clarity. He very seldom has that look.

"Strange that you ask … your father asked me the same question once … just before he left. He just stood up one day and made his way over to the base of the Hell's gate. No one has ever bothered, the Hell's gate is locked for eternity, but your father, he started climbing that impossibly steep cliff face, his hands and feet bleeding on the sharp edges, yet he didn't stop. I watched him until he disappeared … never saw him again after that … he's probably still up there somewhere, waiting …"

I listen to Bruno's every word intently. Dad climbed up to the Hell's gate? How did he know it would open? My mind drifts back to the conversation at the crossroads. The Hunter said there was a prophecy … the book he had in his hands, he said it was about us and the battle ahead … Bruno remembers one book … his final manuscript … it's his punishment? It couldn't be …

"Bruno … tell me about your manuscript. Did it mention anything about a 'second son'?"

I'm expecting a look of confusion, instead Bruno's eyes widen in surprise.

"How … how did you know? The demon has that book …"

I can sense his sudden fear.

"I think the demon, The Hunter, he had your book with him when he took my soul … he said I was supposed to lead the armies of hell into battle. Came as quite a shock seeing as how we all thought it was my brother Sam … dad and Azazel both thought that Sam was the chosen one … but it turns out it's me who's the bad seed."

Bruno's expression scrunches up in concentration … he shifts closer, his stick-like fingers moving to my face. He tentatively traces my features with his fingertips … his concentration suddenly bursting into recognition … and if it were possible; his eyes almost seem moist as he looks at me in open mouthed astonishment.

"The brothers? … it's you … of course …"

I think maybe his lost it again and I watch him worriedly.

"Yes … I see it now … you must forgive me … it's been so long …"

His eyes skim over every inch of my face.

"Bruno … you okay?"

"Yes boy … I'm better than okay … I never thought I'd ever meet you …but this is wrong … all wrong …"

His brow furrows.

"What are you doing here child?"

His fingers are still skimming my face in awe.

"I sold my soul … to save my brother … he died."

He looks at me with a strange tenderness before he nods his head, letting his hands fall down to his sides as he watches me, he looks like he's memorizing my face, or reacquainting himself with it. I suddenly feel uncomfortable.

"My prophecy … it is just a forecast of things that could happen … but we can still make choices to change the course of the future. You boys were never meant to die, not yet … you're not supposed to be here Dean … now I understand why your father left, it was his destiny to give you one last message."

It's my turn to look confused.

"What?"

But before I can question Bruno further there is an explosion of unbridled power. A deafening noise suddenly screeches through the cavern, shaking the foundations. I quickly grab onto Bruno, bracing the both of us up against the rock just before the howling force of the gale surrounds me like a tornado. This has never happened before and from the look on Bruno's face, he's just as surprised as I am. I cling to the stone trying to hold on while still clutching Bruno who is laughing hysterically … muttering something about 'by faith alone'.

"He found it … your brother found it …"

A black cloud of demons come pouring out of the dark tunnels just as we're pulled in a vortex. The demons rip at us, trying to pull us back and I scream in agony, everything becoming a blur as we're pulled in all directions. Again my perception of reality is thrown off as we're thrown through a thin opening, but just as quickly I find I'm standing, so I open my eyes, trying to get my bearings and stare at the sight before me in shock.

It looks like the demons have found a new way to torture me.

I'm standing in front of a tall figure, he's voice echoing in between the incessant howling as he pushes with all his might on the door that he seems to be trying to close … Sammy … and even though I know he's not really here, I take in the sight of him, he's looking at me with such a mixture of joy and sadness and I need to turn away, go back the way I came, It's a trick, a demonic test, I know it, but I can't take my eyes off him. I watch his mouth move, … 'Nici mort, nici al fiintei, te invoc, spirit al treceri',… the strong gust swirling up and around me, demons fighting to push through the doors, trying to grab at me and Bruno, one or two managing to escape. It seems familiar, but I know it's not real.

And then just as suddenly I'm pulled away again, my grip on Bruno's hand my only link to sanity. I can feel the rush of air almost like we're being sucked through a vacuum in space until suddenly I hit something solid, the breath swooshing out of me with the impact. I can't hold on anymore, losing my grip on Bruno and I yell out for him. It's dark, something or someone is trying to suffocate me. The pain that accompanies that feeling is excruciating … worse than anything I've felt before, like I'm being pressed into a confined space, crushed, buried.

I gasp, my eyes flying open. I'm choking, my back arches as I battle to breathe. A familiar face is suddenly hovering over mine.

"Easy Dean … take it easy son, you have a tube down your throat to help you breathe."

A group of people rush in, one presumably a doctor. He looks at me in shock as I struggle, fighting this new torment, trying to cough … my whole body is on fire.

"Shit … this isn't possible …"

The doctors looks at me as if he's seeing a ghost, before he turns to rattle off some orders to the nurse standing just as dumbfounded next to him.

"Get me a complete lab workup immediately, we must've missed something."

He starts checking me over, his hands prodding along my sensitive ribs making me arch up again, as I cough violently.

"Easy kid, we're going to take the tube out, just hang in there … on three I want you to cough, do you understand me?"

I watch him in fear and confusion, what are they trying to do to me? But when he tells me to, I cough, and he pulls and my throat burns as I try to swallow. I feel something slide into my arm, my eyes darting around an unfamiliar room.

My chest is heaving as I try to suck in air, it feels strange … I feel strange.

"Dean? Dean? You with us kiddo?"

It's a face I know … Bobby? … I watch his lips.

He leans forward, whispering.

"Christo!"

It's so soft only I can hear him and he looks strangely relieved while I continue to stare at him, but all I feel is panic … what the hell? His firm, callused hands are gripping my wrist … the pain that shoots up my arm from that touch instantly sends me back into oblivion.

--

Sound is the first thing that comes back through the darkness. The soft beeping of machinery, the continual swoosh of warm oxygen flowing through the tubes in my nose.

"… the doctor's just getting the results of the tests, he should be back shortly."

Someone is holding my hand, soft circles repeating soothingly on the inside of my palm.

This feels familiar … the smell … I know that smell. Hospital.

"How long has he been like this Bobby?"

"He woke up for a few minutes, started breathing on his own, but he didn't seem to recognise me … it's okay, he's not possessed though … but he's been out of it since then."

"God, he looks like shit …" there's silence for a while, "… I saw him you know, his spirit … for a few seconds back at the gate."

I can hear his voice break.

"Bobby, I don't ever want to have to live through something like that again …"

I can hear the heartbreak as he sniffs, his fingers continuing to softly massage the inside of my hand.

"It's okay son … we've got him back now … he'll be okay."

I open my eyes tentatively, fighting against the heavy pull of what feels like sleep, but I haven't slept for one second in hell. I look up with disinterest into soft concerned eyes. Sammy. Those bastards have played this tune before.

"Dean?"

I try to steel my broken heart against the onslaught of abuse, eye's misting up. They're trying to break me … they're succeeding …

"Hey … it's about time you woke up."

He smiles down at me, his face radiating joy, his lips trembling with emotion ... his fingers brushing through my hair with tender familiarity.

"It's okay, you're safe now … we got you back, and I won't let anything or anyone ever hurt you again … do you hear me Dean! Never again!"

He's sitting next to me on the bed and I embrace the agony shooting through my body as he tenderly supports and pulls me up, careful not to disturb the wires and tubes, rocking me gently against his warm chest. He pushes his face into my neck, his voice breaking again as he whispers into my ear.

"You nearly died Dean, I nearly lost you … but I found a way, Bobby and Ellen helped me, we saved you, we finally saved you … everything's going to be alright now … we'll fix this … I promise!"

Bobby is standing just behind Sam … smiling at me with relief and … love? … another cruel trick.

Sam cups my face in his hands before gently laying me back down onto the soft mattress. The doctor comes in smiling; shaking his head in disbelief as he checks my chart, the nurse who follows behind quickly adjusts the medication on my IV line. I look at the wall behind them … waiting for the empty darkness to drag me back.

"Dean? Can you hear me … do you know where you are?"

I look at the doctor with blank eyes. My body hurts, I feel hot and weak … but it's not the same hurt as before … my brow furrows in confusion …

"Are you in pain? Just nod your head once for 'yes', twice for 'no'."

A shudder courses through my body, I'm doing this to myself. I'm letting the demons torture me with my own memories … my eyes brim with tears, tears that feel real and warm, tears that run down my cheek … but I know it's just a memory …

I swallow dryly, turning to look up into the face … the face that's been haunting me for what feels like an eternity … and a small grin pulls at my lips … in mockery, in defiance, I don't care anymore … I've had enough, I won't let these bastards do this to me again, they may have broken me, but I won't let them destroy the only thing I have left … my memories of the brother I lost ...

"…aio … est … imaginarius …"

Sam looks at me in surprise. Bobby moves forward, a crease on his brow.

What did he say?"

"It's Latin, he's speaking in Latin."

Latin … I've been speaking to Bruno in Latin without even realizing it … I try again …

"You're … not … real …"

My voice is soft and raspy. Sam's eyes instantly cloud up with confused concern.

"What? Dean … no … it's okay … you're okay …"

His hand grips my wrist tightly, and I wince in pain, my wrist and ankles are severely bruised from the chains, I look down at them in confusion, but I don't see anything, not a mark. Sam looks over at the doctor.

"Is he okay, does he understand me?"

The doctor leans over to shine a light in my eyes, I don't blink, just move my gaze back to the wall, waiting …

"Dean?"

Sam is shaking my arm roughly now. His voice pleading.

"Dean … listen to me, it's okay, you're safe and alive. You're very sick, but we'll make you better okay, we'll help you through this, for as long as it takes. Do you understand me? I'm here bro, Bobby's here, Ellen too, we aren't going anywhere … you just have to fight and get better … just have faith …"

I look at him with broken sadness … my trembling hand reaching up to touch his face. His gentle eyes are full of concern and love and tears, and I'm expecting him to crumble to dust beneath my fingertips. So I stop just inches from actually touching his skin, knowing I can't go through this again …

"You're … not … real …"

My hand drops lifelessly next to me, darkness encroaching on the edges of my vision.

It's not real when Sammy shouts into my face, yelling my name, telling me that I have to fight, that he is real, that he saved me.

It's not real when he grabs me, eye's wild at the sound of screeching monitors while the doctors and nurses, total strangers, push him out of the way and stick me with injections and shout frantic orders.

It's not real when my last ragged breath passes my trembling lips, my eyes roll back and the strange thumping of my heart stops.

**_TBC_**


	11. Chapter 9

**Notes:** Guys, thanks so much again for the absolutely fantabulous reviews, I love and appreciate every single one of them! Thanks also to my magical beta Phoebe … who uses actual magic to fix up my mistakes LOL ;0) – mixed POV's from Dean and Sammy - one more chapter to follow … enjoy! ;0)

**Warning:** Mild Language

**Chapter 9**

* * *

**Dean's POV**

"… it's so hard … it's hard to tell the difference …"

I'm sitting next to Bruno again, listening to his confused mumblings while my head rests on my knees, sobbing silently.

"… it's so hard to tell what is real and what is not …"

I lean back, but something feels different. I open my eyes to a bright room, a hospital room, I look over next to me. Bruno is staring at the same room in amazement. I lift my head up to watch the activity unfolding as a doctor and nurses work frantically over a bed just a few feet in front of us. Sammy is clinging to the rail at the end of the bed with white knuckled fists, tears streaming down his face as Bobby puts a reassuring hand on his shoulder. What is this? Where am I? Why aren't we back at the rock?

"Bruno? What's happening?"

His scared eyes flicker to mine briefly before he pulls himself into a tight ball, mutely shaking his head.

"I think he did it … I think he did it …"

He starts rocking, tears falling down his leathery cheeks.

"What?"

"Your brother … I think he pulled us out of hell … you and me boy … it worked, it actually worked."

His voice breaks as we watch the scene unfolding before us. This can't be real, can it?

"How?"

Bruno grins nervously at me.

"It's the incantation … I could never understand what compelled me to write it, or why I hid it … but your brother found it somehow … as he was obviously meant to … and he saved you boy … and me inadvertently … we're saved …"

He chuckles and cries and doesn't quite seem to know which is which. I look at him in dazed astonishment … but something catches my attention as I turn my head again … a blinding light in the corner of the room and we both watch in awe as it slowly moves closer.

"Dad?"

"Hey son …"

I'm dreaming ... I must be dreaming ... I push myself up to stand on shaky legs watching in disbelief as dad moves forward, stopping just in front of me, a smile on his trembling lips before he tentatively moves forward to pull me into his embrace. I hold onto him weakly while he supports my weight … and I cry … heartbroken, wretched tears that pour from my devastated soul. He just holds me firmly, rocking me gently in his embrace. The warmth and peace I feel flowing off him confirming like nothing else that I am definitely out of hell. I cling to him, not willing to believe this is real ... after all this time ... if this is a trick I'll go mad. But he holds me and the blackness doesn't come, so I rest my head on his shoulder and let all the fears and longing and relief pour out of me. After long, precious minutes he finally he pulls away, holding me at arm's length, tears still falling down his own cheeks.

"It's okay son … you're going to be okay … but you need to go back."

He looks over his shoulder and my eyes fall on my body. A strange surreal feeling surrounds me as I watch the frantic activity as they work tirelessly to try to revive me. My body is dying … is it possible after all this time? Was my body holding on for this moment ... did Sam actually find a way to get me out of the deal? I look at my brother's face, he's shaking, tears blurring his vision but his eyes remain riveted to the doctors and nurses trying to shock my unresponsive heart back to life. I thought it wasn't real ... but he's here ... he's actually here ... and I want to call to him, go back to him ... but at the same time I want to stay in the loving glow that is enveloping me. I turn to look at my dad ... the man who has always been my role model, my strength ... my family ...

"I'm so tired dad … I don't think I can go back … I don't think I can carry on … let me go with you …"

My voice is pleading, I just want it all to stop, I just want to rest. His hand clamps behind my neck lovingly, but he just shakes his head.

"Not yet Dean … your brother needs you … you need your brother … it's not your time yet son … but we'll be here, waiting … when the time is right you can come with us."

"Mom?" I look at him hopefully.

"Yes, she'll be waiting for you too Dean … but you need to go now, you can't be here any longer … I'm so sorry I wasn't able to save you from this, I know its my fault … but you did good son ... I knew you would."

I look behind me at Bruno … he looks lost and so frail … I can't leave him.

"What about …?"

Dad just smiles knowingly, he moves around me and kneels in front of Bruno, Bruno who is still rocking, holding his thin legs, his eyes wide in unbelieving awe.

'Bruno … it's nice to see you again old friend … I have someone here who's been waiting to see you …"

As those words leave dads mouth a beautiful figure moves closer from the light, kneeling down next to dad.

"Sophie?"

Bruno's voice shakes as he looks up at the beautiful face before him.

"Mia cara."

She reaches out and he hesitates for a moment before tentatively putting his own hand in hers.

"Do you see her boy? Isn't she the most beautiful thing you've ever seen?"

I just nod my head … swallowing back more tears as he stands next to her … and as he moves towards the light his body starts to change and transform. The old bony, weathered skeleton turns into a young, handsome man … the Bruno that Sophie knew before he made the deal … and I smile. He deserves this, he deserves to find peace … but I'll miss him …

"Bruno?"

I suddenly feel lost, this is the person who helped me survive, I don't want to lose him. He looks back at me smiling brilliantly.

"It's all right child ... everything is as it should be."

Dad turns to look at me again.

"We have to leave now son … you need to fight and get better … it's going to be hard, but you need to forget, try son, it will be easier … you shouldn't remember what's happened to you Dean … you won't be able to handle the memories, so let your mind block them okay … when you wake up …"

He places a soothing hand on my shoulder and I nod again, my throat tightening up with emotion. I want to go with him … but Sammy needs me …

"I love you Dean … you and your brother … look out for each other … okay?"

My lip trembles as I watch him turn away.

"You know we will dad."

Bruno looks at me one last time before he disappears with Sophie and dad, his words echoing like a distant memory as I get pulled back.

"Remember boy … you make your own destiny … your own future … you can control the outcome of the prophecy."

--

**Sammy's POV**

It's happening again … he's dying.

I feel sick, my knees threatening to buckle as I watch the doctor doing fast, firm compressions on Dean's bandaged chest. His head is tilted back as a nurse rhythmically pushes air into his lungs through an ampu-bag.

"Give him another 5mg of epinephrine."

I watch as they inject the needle directly into Dean's chest over his heart, his skin translucently pale. His lips are tinged blue but thankfully Dr Howard is unrelenting with the CPR, counting methodically as he watches the flat lining monitor.

Please Dean … please … I can't watch you die … not again …

I swallow hard as Bobby keeps a steady, reassuring hand on my shoulder, his own desperate pleas repeating softly under his breath.

He was getting better, we brought him back and he was breathing on his own … my hands shake uncontrollably as I grip the rail at the end of the bed … he woke up … but he didn't recognize us … _'you aren't real'_ … god, what did they do to him?

"Come on son …"

My teary eyes are transfixed on my brothers face … the face that I has been haunting my dreams for over a month … damnit Dean … I finally found a way to save you … it's not fair … you can't do this to me, this was my chance to make things right … fight … please …

"We're losing him …"

… I'm begging you bro … don't give up … I need you … I need to hear your voice, your laughter, your bitching … I've missed you so damn much …

"Doctor … no change …"

Don't leave me again … I won't survive if you do …

"Still nothing …"

I want you back …

I listen to the screeching monitor, my legs wanting to give out under my weight.

"I'm calling it … time of death …"

I look at the doctor in sick panic.

"NO!"

I rush forward grabbing Dr Howard's arm forcefully as he stops compressions … he looks at me with sad eyes and I suddenly want to strike out at him, punch his lights out …

"I'm so sorry Sam … he was just too weak ..."

"No …"

"Sam it's over ... they ... we did everything we could ..."

Bobby is holding me, trying to pull me back.

"No, no, let me go, he's not dead … DEAN!"

I push Bobby's hands away, moving forward slowly ... my trembling hands reaching out to cup Dean's clammy face in my palms. No. This is the part where the monitor starts beeping, the part where his heart starts beating. That's how it's supposed to happen, not like this … he's supposed to be okay ... please god I'm begging you … don't let it end like this, not after everything we've done, giving me hope and then taking it away …

I tenderly brush his long hair back, away from his face … I'll do the CPR myself … I'll start the compressions again …

I swallow back the terror squeezing at my heart ... biting my trembling lip as I look down at his serene face. He's just sleeping ... it's okay ... he's just sleeping ...

"Sam … he's gone son …"

"No … nonononononono!"

"You have to let him go …"

I can feel Bobby's hands on my shoulders and again I shake them off roughly.

"NO!"

Rage bubbles up from deep inside my chest as I lift Dean up by the shoulders shaking him violently, out of terror, out of anger …

**"DON'T YOU DARE LEAVE ME AGAIN YOU SON OF BITCH!"**

My fingers dig into his skin as I continue to shake him forcefully, shouting out my grief.

"Don't you dare Dean … don't you dare leave me … I did everything I could … there's nothing else Dean … I have nothing left …"

Sobs wrack my body as I fall forward over him, clutching at him desperately, my forehead resting on his still chest. And I hit him … I hit him hard … for giving up … for dying … for taking my brother, my family, my life away. A deep, inconsolable keening emanates from deep within me as realization hits home … I'm alone, I have nothing left … everything and everyone I've ever loved is gone.

"Sam?"

It should have been me … I was the one who died … Dean should have just left me that way … I would have been better off …

"Son?"

I don't want to live … let me die … let me die with Dean …

"Sam … son, move away … the doctor needs to work on him … he has a pulse …"

I look up in shock, tears streaming as I quickly wipe my nose on my sleeve, sniffing … but I can hear it now … the soft beeping, his chest rising slowly beneath my hand. I quickly scramble out of the way as the doctor takes over. Please don't let me be dreaming ... I look at Bobby who has his hand on my shoulder again, he looks as confused and as shocked as everyone else in the room. My legs start buckling and Bobby quickly maneuvers me over to a chair, gently pushing my head down as I take in great gulps of air.

"Easy kiddo … just take it nice and slow …"

I look up again, scared.

"Is he … alive?"

My voice sounds strange … too full of pain and hope.

"Yeah, looks like it … he's still one hellava fighter … son of a bitch also sure knows how to draw a crowd …"

I look at all the medical personnel running around, taking readings, rushing back and forth with test results and medication. But the sound of Dean's heart beating rhythmically blocks out all the other noises. It's the most beautiful sound in the world. He's breathing, he's alive … I run my shaking hand through my bangs before wiping futilely at my moist eyes ... there has to be a god ... 'cause someone up there heard my prayers, just when I was giving up. I smile, shaking, my throat still tight from all the tears, I haven't cried like this in all my life, it's something I'll never share with Dean … but my heart swells with the knowledge that at least I can still share things with Dean … he's alive.

I chuckle nervously and Bobby looks at me with worry, but then joins in when he sees the look of utter relief written all over my face. He and I both know that there's a long road ahead. We don't know how Dean will react when he finally wakes up. Will he remember us, or will he still have that blank look in his eyes? At the moment I'm just too thankful to care. Doctor Howard eventually moves over, bending down so that he is at eye level with me.

"Sam, I don't know how, but you're brother's back … it's the darnedest thing I've ever seen. Don't get me wrong, he's still weak, and he still has a fever, but his body is fighting and against any medical explanation, he's also healing. At this rate we'll be able to take him off dialysis machine within the next few hours. I have the results from the EEG and his brain waves are normal …"

I grin, the doctor grinning in return, both of us knowing there is nothing normal about what has just happened.

"… But his vitals are good, he's stable and his test results all look very positive. It may take some time, but I think it's safe to say that Dean will eventually make a full recovery."

I beam at that … god, he was dying, he was dead … I don't care how long it takes, I'll mother him, and baby him, damn I'll even be his 'slave' like when we were kids and I lost one of the numerous bets we used to have … a lesson I learned the hard way, you never bet against Dean … and shit, I'll do anything, I'm just completely weak with relief at the knowledge that I actually have him back. Dr Howard stands to leave, shaking his head in amazement.

"You know, that brother of yours sure has some angels looking out for him."

I chuckle again at that. He has no idea … dad, mom … hell, even Bruno … I have no more doubts anymore, just complete faith that there are angels and that they are keeping an eye on us. I lost my faith there for a while, but it's returned stronger than ever. I push myself up, Bobby smiling goofily as he helps me to move over and settle in the chair next to Dean's bed. I take Dean's warm hand in mine again and start the soothing circles with my thumb on the inside of his palm. I look up at the smiling faces of Bobby and the doctor, my own smile just as blinding.

"Yeah … I know."

_**TBC**_

_Final Chapter to follow ;0)_


	12. Chapter 10

**Notes:** Hi Guys ;0) – Here it finally is, the final chapter. And as always thanks for the lovely reviews, fav's and alerts and for sticking with me through this strange tale, I hope you enjoyed it. I'm off to do some lighter more humorous fic's, probably a whole bunch of one shots, although (woe be me) I have a hurt Sammy fic playing out in my mind. I'm going to finish typing them up before I post, because time runs away from me and I hate to keep you waiting LOL ;0) - Also thanks as always to my amazing beta Phoebe who iron's and starches my ramblings, so that you get a nice crispy version of the wrinkled story I send her ;0) – so here goes ... enjoy!

**Warning:** Mild Language

**Chapter 10**

**Dean's POV**

* * *

Arguing.

Voices dancing on the outskirts of my consciousness. I try to concentrate on them as I fight my way through the fogginess of my fevered mind.

"... but you said he was getting better ..."

Sammy ...

"Yes I did, but I also said he's fighting the infection and sepsis. I know his condition is still serious, but under the circumstance he's doing better than we expected. We've removed him from the dialysis machine and his body is slowly starting to heal, but it's going to take a while ... we just need to be patient."

"How can you tell me to be patient?"

He's pissed, I know that sound, his voice hissing in agitation.

"My brother is fighting for his life and none of the medications you're giving him are making him any better!"

"Sam, you have to realise that his immune system is completely run down ... shot to hell."

I hear the sharp intake of breath, like someone sucker punched him ... I struggle to open my eyes, not succeeding as my fist scrunches in the sheets anxiously.

"His throat and glands are still swollen, the sooner we can get him to drink something, the better. As you know we're still very worried about pneumonia, and he's too weak to fight something like that off. So we have him on a stronger dose of antibiotics, all we can do now is wait ... and maybe, if you're religious, pray."

I can almost hear Sam nodding his head but I know he's hurting, can sense it ... I've hurt him, failed him too many times ... watched him die just as many ...

"I'm sorry ... I'm sorry doc, it's just ... it's been two days and still no change ..."

"I know son, but we've done everything we can ... it's up to him now."

There's a break of uncomfortable silence and I can feel the thick tension in the air. My hand flexes again ...

"Sam ... you need to calm down ... I think your being upset is upsetting Dean."

Bobby's concerned voice and then a cool hand instantly ghosts across my forehead.

"Dean ... hey bro, can you hear me?"

He grabs my wrist ... _I'm suspended by dark chains ..._ the stabbing pain making my body arch up ... _lightning flashes in the dark green clouds ..._ and I can't stop myself from crying out, before I fall back into unconsciousness.

--

"Are you sure nothings broken?"

I jump slightly at the question, can't open my eyes, trying to move my mouth to answer is impossible, but thankfully someone else does ... I just don't have the energy ...

"Yes, we did numerous tests, he seems to have extreme sensitivity on both wrists and ankles, also near his right shoulder and waist on his left side. I won't lie to you Sam, it's concerning, we have no idea why he is showing signs of pain in these areas."

I want to tell Sam that's it's just a phantom pain ... a memory of the tortures haunting my restless sleep ... but I'm so tired ... too tired ...

I jerk slightly, waking up again, almost sighing when Sam's hand starts rubbing soothingly on my arm, I concentrate on his warm touch ...

"Try and get some rest kid, you look exhausted. The physiotherapist will only be here in an hour or two for Dean's daily routine. You should maybe try and get some shut-eye before then."

"Thanks doc, I will."

His voice breaks, his hand still resting on mine.

"You've been looking after me my whole life Dean ... it's my turn."

I sink back into exhaustion, listening to the weariness in his voice … knowing he won't sleep.

--

Harsh breathing and whimpering fills my head ... and I'm surprised to find it's rumbling from deep within my own chest.

"Shhh ... shhh ... you're okay ..."

Hot ... I'm too hot ... suffocating ... I jolt at the shock of feeling a cool cloth wipe across my forehead ...

"It's okay bro ... I'm here ..."

I kick at the sticky sheets clinging to my sweaty body ... god I'm dying ... dead ... alive ... don't know, don't care, just burning up ... head hurts ... another soft whimper slips past my lips ...

"Dean ... easy, take it easy ... you have a fever ... can you try and open your eyes for me?"

"Smmm?"

I can hear what sounds like relief in his voice.

"Yeah, it's me bro, open your eyes ... I need you to try and drink something ..."

My throat is too dry ... scratchy, feels like sandpaper ... burning so bad every time I inhale ... and I can't swallow ... don't think I remember how. I feel his arm slip under my neck as he carefully lifts me up, it hurts, my body hurts.

"Can't ..."

"Yes you can ... just open your eyes, I've got you."

I fight my heavy eyelids, and for the first time they actually obey me and open ... I squint, battling to make out his face through my blurry vision.

"That's it, nice and slow … you with me?"

"Hur's."

"I know it hurts … I'll ask them to adjust your meds now … just try to take a sip of this first …"

He's holding a plastic cup to my lips, he tilts it slightly and I try to take a sip, but the cool liquid just dribbles down my chin. I close my eyes again and groan or cry, I'm not sure which.

"Please Dean ... this will help soothe and numb the pain a little ... please ... just try again, for me."

It hurts to talk ... hurts to breath ... still can't seem to swallow … but I nod my head, watching tiredly as he brings the cup to my lips again. I close my eyes in anticipation, my face scrunching up in agony as I take a small mouthful of the ginger smelling concoction, it's the first time I've had something to drink since before the battle, and I force myself ... fighting the urge to gag ... trying to get the muscles that are rebelling against me to swallow. I concentrate, my head pounding as I try to breathe through my nose, but I manage to half gulp, half inhale as the heavily medicated liquid goes down my scratchy throat, making me burst into a hacking cough.

Sammy pulls me up, letting my head rest on his shoulder, this feels strangely familiar, as he hits me firmly between the shoulder blades while I continue to struggle to get much needed oxygen into my starving lungs. Every part of me aches and I cling to him weakly.

"Easy, I've got you ..."

I'm exhausted, body trembling with the effort of staying upright so Sammy carefully lowers me back onto the pillow as I manage to gulp in some more deep breaths. My throat still hurts but the liquid seems to have the desired effect and I feel a strange sense of relief as the dryness is suddenly replaced with unbearable thirst.

"... more ..."

"You sure?"

I nod slowly as he helps lift me again, supporting my weight before bringing the cup to my mouth, my shaky hands holding the same cup uselessly. I take another small sip, but this time it's a bit easier to swallow and I find myself trying to gulp the cool liquid frantically, Sammy irritatingly managing to prevent me from drinking as fast as I want.

"Easy, easy Dean ... slowly, I don't want you to get sick."

He pulls the cup away and I'm too weak to stop him so I fall back into the cradle of his arm completely drained of energy, staring at him with blank eyes.

I watch tiredly as the nurse moves over to adjust the med's on my IV line before I turn again to watch Sammy's troubled face, I know he's talking to me but it doesn't make much sense, so I just let myself fall back into the warm embrace of painless sleep.

--

Icepacks? God, I hate icepacks.

My eyes fly open, blinking and shuddering at the chilly sensations sending goose bumps along my skin. I look at Sammy hovering nervously next to my bed, the nurses thankfully removing the offending cool-gel packs instead of packing them on. I can't look them in the eye, feeling my body's tight and shrinking response, those things are cold, damnit.

"Hey?"

I mouth the word 'hey' back at him.

"How ya feeling?"

"... with ... my ... hands …"

He chuckles, brushing a loose lock of hair off my forehead. Shit, how long is my hair?

"Seriously bro ... on a scale from 1 to 10 ..."

I hesitate ... Sam's eyes trying to look right through me ...

"... 11 ..."

He smiles again, dark rings like half moons under his eyes.

"That good huh?"

I nod tiredly.

"I know … but it's going to be okay Dean, I promise, you're getting better, your fever broke last night plus the doc's very pleased with your last test results."

"… and I didn't … even study …"

I grin at him tiredly as he settles himself to sit next to me again. He smiles back but he looks like the walking dead, probably hasn't been sleeping knowing him.

"… you … taking care …"

"Yeah, I'm fine, Bobby's running around here somewhere, been on my case about sleeping and eating," I give him what I hope is a warning look and he quickly continues, "… and I am, I promise, just been a little stressed is all."

I'm not entirely convinced he's been looking after himself, but I let it go, feeling the endless tiredness aching in my bones and pulling at my consciousness.

Sam takes my silence as his cue to give me a run down on everything that's been happening. He's talking too fast, a sure fire sign that he's been worried out of his mind, so I let him talk, it helps him release some of that pent up tension, and at the same time, the tone of his voice is soothing to me.

"Bobby's taking care of all the paperwork and hospital bills, with some help from Hal, so we won't need to worry about that, thank god."

I study him. His hair is longer, curling behind his ears where he keeps pushing at the loose tendrils absently. We both seriously need to get our hands on a 24 hour emergency barber.

"Dean, I can't tell you how relieved we were when you woke up and recognised us, especially after not recognizing us that first time, but now you do even if you can't seem to remember anything about what happened since the battle, doc says it's your body's way of coping with the trauma you suffered."

Sam continues chattering for a while, only stopping to breathe when Bobby joins us a few minutes later. Bobby grins happily at me, patting my leg as he sits next to Sam.

"Good to see ya awake son … how ya holding up?"

"… good …"

My words become a lie as I start coughing painfully, my eyes threatening to close again as I fight through the congestion. Sammy quickly reaches over for the cup and gently lifts my head, letting me take a few soothing sips.

"Hey bro, here you go."

He's probably going to nurse me to death … funny how I don't seem to mind anymore. I continue to listen in amusement as Bobby and Sammy both try to out-talk each other, trying to fill in the missing gaps of my memory. All I want to do is sleep, but they look so happy to see me awake, I just can't let them down.

"Ellen's still following up on some leads, but we haven't seen or heard from Ruby, Lilith or the Hunter, it's like they've dropped off the face of the planet."

I watch their mouths moving, rattling off lists of things that just don't seem important to me anymore.

"And I spoke to a friend of a friend and he says that he can get that tattoo of your's fixed, no problem."

I grimace, remembering how unpleasant it was to have the tattoo done the first place. I know Sammy and I were both drunk as skunks, didn't stop it from hurting like a son-of-a-bitch though.

I realise I've missed another section of their chattering as I see Sammy fiddling with something around his neck, his eyes glistening. I watch speechlessly as he takes the amulet off and leans forward to carefully put it over my head, the metal still warm from his own body heat.

"It saved my life Dean … just like you always do …"

I don't know what to say him, there is so much I could ... but I don't have the words. So we all just sit in deafening silence … the socially awkward moment making me squirm uncomfortably, but luckily a nurse walks in again, checking my vitals, blushing as she catches my eye and then leaves again. My smile mirrors the look of relief on Sammy's face. Bobby thankfully breaks the unease.

"Well son, looks like the nurses are falling all over themselves to take care of you."

I take it back, he's doubling the unease. He wiggles his bushy eyebrows at me from beneath his cap.

"Actually heard that they're having a lucky draw to see who gets to be the one to bathe you down."

Sammy, the bastard, joins in on the teasing.

"Yeah, I think it's your hair Dean, it's pretty long dude, I think you're in competition with me now ... long hair really turns the chicks on."

I snort unconvinced, what Sammy knows about romancing the ladies will fill a matchbook, but I still feel the blush rise from my toes right up into my cheeks. Both of them barking out a laugh at my disgusted look. I'm slightly surprised to find that I'm not interested in all the obvious female attention. Guess my libido is as damaged as my soul.

The pain meds start taking effect and before I realise it my eyes are closed, Sammy and Bobby probably thinking I've fallen asleep, but I can hear them discussing the incident at the Devil's Gate, and I try to follow their conversation, picking up here and there on what happened, guilt settling in my gut.

"… something came through the Gate, Bobby … I don't know what it was, but we'll find it, and kill it ... as soon as Dean gets better … and the prophecy be damned, Dean and I are going to fight this thing our way, and if he isn't ready, then I'll do it myself ... I won't let these assholes mess with us anymore, never again!"

His voice is determined but I can't hold on to his words, too tired. I feel the welcoming folds of sleep, but I remember something … need to tell Sammy … it's important … I jerk awake, looking into his concerned face, the words are soft and slurred but he hears me …

"Don't ... leave ..."

"I'm not going anywhere Dean."

--

Sammy's holding me carefully around the waist with one arm, my own arm draped loosely over his shoulder as we make our way slowly over to the Impala. I'm so hopped up on pain killers I weave slightly, grinning stupidly as we walk through the parking lot. Bobby's gone ahead of us, we'll catch up, but I can't help but blind Sammy with my smile when I see my girls highly polished exterior, knowing Sammy was true to his word. He's been taking good care of her and I almost want to run forward, until my knees nearly buckle under me.

"Easy there tiger ..."

As we get closer I let my hand run lovingly over her shiny black hood, still grinning happily.

"Baby ... god you look ... beautiful. I missed you so much ..."

Sammy chuckles next to me, shaking his head, I look at him hopefully.

"Can I drive?"

He stops, letting his head fall back so that he can look up at the bright blue sky.

"What're you doing?"

"Just checking to see if pigs can fly."

"Funny Sam ... nice to see you found your sense of humour while I was bravely clinging to life back there ...," I sigh dramatically, "… and like a friggin hero mind you."

He snorts.

"Dean, you've been bitching and complaining non-stop for 4 days now, how is that in any way brave or heroic?"

I lift an eyebrow as I contemplate his question.

"Well the nurses all thought I was heroic ... and I have the telephone numbers to prove it."

I pat the top pocket of my jacket, smirking victoriously ... the pocket is empty, threw all the numbers away ... but Sammy doesn't need to know that.

"God Dean ... the more things change, the more they stay the same."

He's smiling happily, which makes me happy in turn, so I don't complain as he manages to get me into the passenger seat, but not before I'm all wrapped up in a huge blanket like a human burrito. Sam positions me as comfortably as possible in the shotgun seat before he rushes over to the driver's side, starting the engine and letting her purr for a few seconds for my benefit. I lean heavily against the passenger door relieved to be anywhere but in that hospital room, those 4 walls were making me stir crazy, been there for 2 months, 15 days and 5 hours exactly, not that I'm counting. We're thankfully finally on our way to Bobby's place so that I can continue my recovery. Sammy wanted us to go to the coast or the Grand Canyon or somewhere for a vacation ... but all I need is my family ... Sammy and Bobby and Ellen ... I'm not ready to face a world that has forsaken me, a world that forgot I even existed while I suffered in hell ... a world I've fought for my whole life ... the price I paid was too high.

Sammy's mother-henning me non-stop as I feared, 'drink this Dean' ... 'don't rush it Dean'... 'listen to the doctor Dean' ... freegin' girl, but apparently I've healed pretty nicely. Stab wound is just a tender scar which chicks would probably dig, and the doc says I'll be good as new in a month or two. Just need to take things easy for a while. No arguments from me though, I'm tired 24/7 lately and almost too weak to take a piss on my own, but I'm managing. I yawn again in emphasis. Only thing that bothers me is the pain, I have a script bottle of extra strong painkillers. They're the only thing that helps with the constant ache in my wrists and ankles, never mind my shoulder and side. I know the pain's not real, but is sure as ... _hell? _... nope, sure as tarnation ... feels real enough, plus the nightmares are getting worse ... and the vomiting, and the loss of appetite ... things I haven't shared with Sammy or the doc, things I've learnt to hide, along with everything else. But the meds help ... just hope I can get my hands on more when my stash runs out. I look over at Sammy nervously hoping he doesn't read minds ... don't know what he may have learnt or what new 'powers' he's manifested since I've been away. He seems oblivious though, so I let out a small sigh of relief.

We're both silent, me watching the scenery fly by, Sammy flicking uncertainly through the radio stations, trying to find something he thinks I'd like to listen to. Thirty days ... in hell, Thirty years ... a lifetime ... I've had a lifetime to learn how to hide my feelings ... Sammy can't read me, not like he used to, not anymore ... there's a strange chasm, a rift between us ... I swallow back the heartache … we've lost our bond ... I've changed ...

"Dean?"

I look over at him, I knew this was coming.

"Yeah ..."

"Do you ...?" He swallows nervously, his neck twitching as he tries to find the words ... "Do you remember ... what happened ... in hell?"

I smile at him, the most honest look I can muster.

"No ... No Sammy ..." I chuckle to make it more believable, "... lucky for me I guess, I don't think I could handle it ya know ... there's this feeling deep inside me ... and I just have no doubt that whatever happened there was real bad ... but I don't poke at it, to tell ya the truth ... I'm kinda grateful I don't have memories, don't really want to remember ..."

_But I do remember. Everything. _The minute Sammy gave me Bruno's old manuscript, it all came flooding back. I remember shaking uncontrollably before I collapsed, nearly scaring the shit out of Sammy for the hundredth time. Later, when I read it by myself, I remembered how he saved me, remembered every detail of my torment. That's when I asked my very confused brother if I could keep it, and now I have it safely tucked at the bottom of my duffle bag.

Sammy nods his head vigorously, blinking tears from his eyes, a small relieved smile playing on his lips.

"Yeah, I guess ... it's better that way ... I still can't remember what happened to me when I died ..."

My heart lurches at that memory.

"... probably our minds way of protecting us ... helping us handle things we can't ..."

_There's no escape for me ... I remember the torture, pain, despair, heartbreak ... in vivid, painful colours ..._

I squint through the headache that's started throbbing behind my eyes, but my gaze remains on Sammy as he tries to keep his focus on the road. He's hurting and he feels guilty at the same time … I smirk, typical Winchester family trait ... but I also still find comfort in the fact that he did try, he did everything he could to save me, bring me back ... and it hurts me more than any torture to see that look of self loathing in his eyes ... I need to break the tension ... need him to think everything is going to be okay ...

"You know, now that you mention it ... I do actually remember something ..."

Sammy's eyes quickly dart to mine in concern, his breath hitching involuntarily as he waits for my next words with nervous trepidation ... knowing him he probably thinks _or rather hopes_ I'm going to go all 'emo' on him ...

"Yeah Dean ... what ... what is it?"

He seems unsure of how to handle the situation, only firming my resolve.

"You know whatever it is bro, I'm here for you, I'll help you through it, no matter what ..."

God, he's still my same 'touchy feely sister' ... I almost snort in amusement, instead I put on my poker face ...

"Shit, Sammy ... I don't know how to ... damn this is just so hard man ... I don't know how to 'share' this with you ... "

He gives me one of his "you're too precious for this world" looks, I bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from grinning ...

"It's okay Dean ... you can tell me ..."

I give him a tentative smile, looking to the entire world as if I'm digging deep down into my magical rainbow bag of feelings, finding that 'happy place' everyone keeps harping on about, I almost throw up a little in my mouth at the thought.

"Well it's all a bit fuzzy but I sorta remember this one room ... god, it's too awful ..."

He looks at me nervously, not wanting to say anything that might stop me from opening up to him, waiting patiently for me to continue.

"... I saw you there Sammy ... in fact hundreds of you, and I tried, but I couldn't stop it ... it just kept happening over and over again ..."

My voice catches and he reaches out to hold my shoulder in silent support, while also still trying to keep his eyes on the road.

"What was it Dean? Did you see me die over and over again, like what the Trickster did to me back at the Mystery Spot?"

I shake my head sadly.

"No ... it was much worse ..."

His eyebrows raise, probably trying to imagine what could possibly be worse than that.

"God Dean ... I'm so sorry man ... what was it, what happened?"

"You ...," I pause for a second for emphasis, "... you all started moving towards me ... converging," I lift a trembling hand to lay it over my heart, "... and then you **hugged** me and cried ...," I shiver dramatically, "... over and over again ... it was like the gay version of 'Thelma and Louise' ... god you can't imagine the torture!" I pull in a loud, fake sniff, blinking my eyes coyly at him.

He stares at me for a second in stunned silence, before his hand snakes out to cuff me lightly upside the head. I'm still too weak and slow to get out of his way in time but I grin at him cockily, wiggling my eyebrows before he bursts into laughter, it's the best sound in the world.

_I know it's my burden, mine alone. Those bastards broke me, and I have to somehow find the strength to pull myself together again, fix what they shattered, something Sammy must never know._

I listen contentedly to his amusement, his dimples making his whole face light up.

"You know what ... you are still seriously an ass, Dean ... and the world's biggest jerk to boot!"

"And you're still a giant bitch!"

We both continue chuckling, Sammy shaking his head in amusement as he falls into our old routine with familiar ease, while I fall into my role as his big brother with the same ease.

I lean back, just watching my baby brother, knowing how much he risked and sacrificed to bring me back.

Saved me?

… _but you can't save me this time Sammy, can't save me from myself, 'cause I also know with a certainty that even if it's the last thing I do, I'll protect you. Protect you from the knowledge that I lost a part of me in Hell, something I'll never get back ... I lost my faith._

_**Fin ;0)**_


End file.
